Have a Heart
by Alexnandru Van Gordon
Summary: For Slade, a villain is evil and ruthless. Morals are void. But…what if, once in a blue moon, the bad guy realizes…maybe he isn’t as bad as he wanted—or thought—he could be…They all have a heart stored somewhere… response to DLsky
1. Chapter one: The Job

Have a Heart

Alexnandru Van Gordon

"**Response to Dlsky's challenge**."

_(Estimated time between updates…_every one or two weeks on the weekends. I can't be sure because I share the computer and ever since my older sister started writing her papers for university, my typing time has been cut down considerably. The reason for this one being so early is because Saturday I'm gone to my little sister's birthday the entire day, and Sunday I'm probably going out to the country (country-country with the horses and the handmade homes) to see my old-folk.)

Wow…I love competitions. There's nothing better to get the blood flowing and the writer's block unclogged. I'm absolutely stumped for my other stories so maybe this challenge will open my eyes to something I've been missing for who-knows-how-long. Oops—rambling. And darn…I promised myself I wouldn't do that anymore…Oh well, too later for that. I think I'm too excited to calm down now…

**SUMMARY:** For Slade, a villain can be as evil and moral-less as he or she wants to be. But…what if, once in a blue moon, the bad guy realizes…maybe he isn't just as bad as he wanted—or thought—he could be…They all have a heart stored somewhere…

DON'T WORRY! Slade stays in character. Through-out the entire story

**DISCLAIMER:** Me—own this? Whoa—no way. I think you guys should watch a different news channel. I don't know what stories they're making up about people these days…

CHAPTER ONE: The job

Sinking away into the depth of yet another lair after a half-failure against a group of teenaged mental patients wasn't his idea of a peaceful after the possible end of the world. Well, they probably didn't think he lost the match against Trigon. They were probably too frustrated with themselves for letting him get away while they were celebrating, thinking him the victor instead. He was, in a way, the winner, but he lost just as much as he gained in the last couple of days that all his efforts were wasted for nothing. But…when you thought about it, becoming whole again after sinking into a pit of lava was an upside to his current situation. And to think—_he_, not even a villain constantly on watch by the Justice League, almost ended the world…That was something to remember.

And that was also something new to put on the To Forget list. If he had survived the destruction of the world, then—hey, whatever. Let's set the trees on fire and watch them burn—but when he was down on the list to be killed…well, he couldn't enjoy his victory if he was dead. Not that he couldn't be entirely dead—no way. True, thanks to Trigon he was _whole_ again, but it was in his own nature to escape that lava fiasco one way or another _alive_.

Ever since that secret military experiment gone wrong back in his golden days, he was as immortal as any other meta-human could be. Made into a genius, strength enhanced, agility and speed increased dramatically—he was the perfect, and invincible, killing machine. He almost missed the good old days when he was the mercenary Deathstroke the Terminator, hunting down a couple of guys for some quick cash and the adrenaline rush that came with 'the hunt'. After all, how else would he be able to fund his diabolical schemes to take down the Teen Titans and spread his hate slowly worldwide—starting with none other than Jump City? But those days weren't the best of days either…He had his sons, Grant and Joseph, both dead now, and his young daughter somewhere out on her own in the world…all thanks to him. It was when he remembered those kinds of things that he wished the world would just leave him alone.

But the world didn't want to leave him alone. Even after escaping the end of the life as he knew it, evil tended to find him. He knew he wasn't in the phone book…and yet the customers still called.

"_Deathstroke the Terminator, I presume…"_

"A name long abandoned." He answered, keeping the annoyance in his voice to a medium level. Patience was his middle name.

Turning to face one of his large screens, he slid his hands behind his back and stared at the shaded figure on the line. Who in their right mind would want to call _him_?

"Is there a purpose for your calling or are you only here to gawk?"

"_Not much of a fellow for chit-chat, are you? Never thought you would be either…"_

"That still doesn't answer my question."

"_Of course. Business first…" _That dark silhouette shifted where he stood, obviously a representative of the person who really wanted to speak with Slade. _"First of all, I need to know if you're still up for a well-paid job. Seeing how your robots are always destroyed on the news, I figured it isn't cheap to keep up in your kind of business."_

"True…" When you thought about it, being prepared for the worst was never actually a bad thing. "And, tell me…why would I be interested in a new job?"

"_Temporary. Just a quick mission; and the fact that six million is the reward if you complete it before our competition gets to what we're after first. Besides, I heard you enjoyed a good hunt…"_

He stood for a moment to think it over. Usually he would trace the call and send off a robot or two to eliminate whoever it was that was calling and anyone else who knew how to reach him, but now that he though about it…it wouldn't hurt to leave the city alone for a while. All the amateur criminals would keep the Titans in shape while he was gone, and he could start on his next plan at any time…

"Who are you speaking for?"

Baffled, the man hesitated. _"Excuse me?_"

"I won't ask again."

"…_Mr David Church."_

Mr. Church…there wasn't much he knew about the man besides the fact that he controlled a rather large drug ring in New York City. The man had a history on him…but nothing that he could be caught at. The last he heard of the man was that he was getting into something larger than drugs…and it wasn't pretty.

"And why am I speaking to you instead of him?"

"_He's away for the time-being, but he left me with a number for you to reach him at had you the need to speak with him personally. That is, if you accept the mission."_

"And what exactly _is_ this mission you keep telling me about?" He was getting bored.

"_You're to find a young man who goes by the name of Peter Colin. He is currently at the country's best university in Germany…"_

He waited…"Dead or alive?"

"_Alive—all limbs attached, if you please. We need him for what he knows."_

That was good enough for him.

"Mr. Church's number…"

_-Break-_

The instructions were clear. He had two weeks to find a young man under the name of Peter Colin and drag him all the way back to New York City in one piece with a beat in his heart and breathe in his lungs. He wasn't used to the plain kidnapping jobs—he wasn't much of the type of person who enjoyed the whole ordeal, but, by the way he was told to hurry, he had the strange sensation that guns would be needed anyway during the trip. If Mr. Colin was as important as people made him out to be, then perhaps whoever else was after him would put up a good fight.

And if they didn't, he'd be just as satisfied. He'd still get paid and he'd be to Germany and back again in no time soon. Either way, he won. An easy job.

Or so he thought.

In preparation for his little trip, he did the usual—looked up everything he could about his victim just to demolish any chance of escape for the now unfortunate man. The first problem he ran into was the multiple men he came up with. Of course, more than one person was bound to have a name like that so it didn't upset him in the least bit when his list grew tenfold. What did get on his nerves was, when pinpointing a 'Peter Colin' for the Freie Universitat Berlin (the University of Berlin), the fact that he now came up with nothing. There was no student by that name.

After of hours of hacking into different files and searching every person who went by the name of Peter in Berlin, he finally came across one piece of evidence that such a person did exist at the university at that very moment—an essay on some theory written and submitted to a local newspaper by none other than one Peter Colin.

The man worked hard to conceal his identity and lay low…Slade couldn't help but wonder why.

Early the next morning, dressed as a civilian, he boarded a plane and headed east to Europe. The flight took longer than he hoped, having started from the Pacific Coast of America, and he arrived in Berlin near the end of the day around five o'clock. His only hope was that the young man took lessons late in the afternoon.

"I'm looking for a Mr. Colin."

The woman at the front desk almost had a heart attack when she saw him. She was standing atop a chair, in the midst of replacing the cover to one of the overhead lights when she saw him. Not caring to stare at him properly, she sighed and nodded her head toward the left hall by her desk.

"Room 107." She said; dialect heavy. Had she been a smarter woman, she would have thought to stop a man dressed in a long coat, hat and scarf for questioning. It didn't matter though. All the better for him.

The long white hallways were empty; only one or two classes he passed were filled with students, and they were all too busy taking notes to notice him. It only took him a while to stalk down the right hallway and find 107, a large room with stairs leading down gradually to the front of the room where a long blackboard was built into the wall and another single board propped up on a stand to flip for extra use, angled sideways to the first. The room, to his surprise, was empty save for three people—two young men and an older woman in her late fifties or sixties.

Leaning against the front desk stood the first young man, hair short and black and posture bored. He held in his hand a paper with equations and markings scribbled everywhere in Slade's view. The woman, tall and blond, had her hair pulled back into a tight bun, arms crossed casually where she stood, not leaning, beside the first boy. The second boy, the point of focus, stood at the rotating blackboard, writing away at a long equation madly with a shrinking piece of white chalk. Hair short and a flaming red, Slade found it hard to believe a boy as young as him was at the board writing out something a graduate would be working on. He was tall and lithe, no older than twenty-three at most, dressed in a dark green turtle neck and standing like a proud teacher rather than a student. From the angle he stood, Slade could see the level of concentration on his face…

"_You're right. It doesn't work."_ The boy at the board muttered in German. It was slightly broken, possibly due to only learning it a short while ago. _"I think it's a typo in the text book."_

"_And the other students?"_ The second young man asked, handing his paper to the woman. _"They're all going to get it wrong."_

"_I'll have to tell them all next class…unless…" _Pressing the chalk hard against the board, he boldly circled part of the equation near the beginning. _"I see…They'll most likely see this as the mistake when…"_ Stretching his arm up higher, he boldly circled another part of the equation. _"You see here? Change this and it should all equal out…No, wait. That's wrong too."_

"_I still think it's a typo, Mr. Colin."_

"_I think so too…"_

At least now he knew who he was after.

The young man began his work again, erasing half the equation to double-check—and Slade started quietly down the stairs, slipping off the hat, scarf and coat. When he reached near the bottom, he threw his things onto one of the other tables and stepped loudly onto the lower floor. All three people jumped at the sound and turned to see who was there, Peter breaking the chalk against the board in the process.

"_Damn…that always happens…Who are—"_ Looking up from the fallen chalk, the younger man stared at Slade in shock and amazement. The woman raised an eyebrow and the other man looked more or less startled.

"Must be American." The woman muttered to the Peter, eyeing his mercenary suit. "People like this protect America?"

"I…don't believe I know whose side he's on…" The young man answered, green eyes suddenly flaring angrily. "But if he's here for the reason I think he is—"

"Peter Colin." Slade said calmly. "If you are familiar to this, than I expect you know the drill…"

"Unfortunately, yes…"

The other boy and woman stared at their friend oddly, watching as he rolled his eyes and sighed, pushing the rotating board away from him to reveal a portion of the wall. Reaching back his arm he grabbed the fire alarm and, before Slade could move, he pulled it.

Staring at his friends, Peter shrugged. _"Now, we run."_

Slade could have cared less about the other two people, speeding past them as they split up to catch the young man before he could slip away. The man, thankfully, was caught behind the desk when he tried to move and backed up with a sudden jolt into the wall blackboard.

"Wow, no head start? Can't a guy get a break around here?"

Slade didn't reply. Instead he grabbed the end of the desk and turned it on its side, slamming it forward to crush the man below the waist against the wall.

"_Ow_—jeez, I just got my foot out of a cast a week ago." The young man yelped, pushing it back and leaning against the wall for support. "Who the hell are you?"

"Does that really matter?"

"It would help to know who I'm up against." Peter grumbled. "Seeing that you know me, I at least deserve to know your name."

"Like I said—it doesn't matter."

"As if." He reached into a jean pocket and pulled out small bottle just as Slade advanced closer. He was given only a moment to see the bottle before Peter raised it and sprayed the contents in his one eye. The burning sensation came quickly, watering his eye as he tried to rub the pepper spray away. To his right he heard the sound of movement, reaching out one of his hands to catch the man before he could make a break for it. Unfortunately for Slade, the young man was faster than he gave him credit for and the only thing he felt was a wrist slip from his grasp.

-E-

He had no idea who the guy was—didn't really care either—but if he was like all the other guys he ran into every couple of months, then the best thing to do was put as much distance as he most possibly could between himself and the madman. Well, the pepper spray seemed to work for on a lot of guys. Maybe because they didn't expect a man to be carrying it around or…something like that.

Making his way up the stairs as fast as he could, ignoring the pain in his healing leg, he glanced over his shoulder briefly to see what his opponent was up to. Much to his disappointment, the man was already starting up the stairs, gaining speed as took the stairs by fours in a wild sprint. And his eye was looking none too well…

Focusing back on the task at hand—escaping—he stared back up the stairs and came to one of the two doors leading out into the hall, still left open from when Mrs. Knefler and David bolted from the room. Hopefully the police would be there soon. If not…well, he was used to running.

Turning to his left, he dashed down the hall and slid to a halt near next the corner to turn again. The other man behind him was so close that he could hear the metal of his boots clicking a few feet behind him.

Up ahead was the front desk. The only thing opening it up to the hallway was a medium sized window that could be blocked off with a metal grate. Mrs. Klein, standing and putting away the rest of her work for the day, caught sight of him and dropped the pile of paper in her hands.

"_Professor?"_ She asked in German, shrieking when she noticed the other man.

"_Close the grate! Close the grate!" _He replied, closing in on her. She did as she was told, reaching up and unlocking the grid. Just as she began closing it, a hand reached for his shoulder, just within view of the corner of his eye.

"She can't help you." The man muttered, clamping down on his shoulder—

—at the exact same moment he jumped and slid through the small gap left in the window, feet first. The grate fell on the man's hand, still holding onto a fistful of his sweater, and Mrs. Klein slammed it down further to loosen his grip. Peter's sweater tore anyway, but the man's hand pulled back and the grate locked in place, a few slits in the grate revealing to Peter the man throwing down the piece of sweater in frustration.

"You're not getting away that easy." He warned, pulling back his fist and ramming it into the grate. It dented, and broke at one point, a small hole growing in its place when the man punched again.

"Ummm…please tell me there's a way out of here…" Peter stared at the one locked door leading out into the hall beside the window. To leave that way would be a death wish waiting to be granted.

Mrs. Klein, eyes wide and slow with shock, reached into her coat pocket for a set of keys, turning toward a second door which led to the hallway on the other side of the small office. "Turn left to get to the library." She whispered, letting him out and starting in the other direction quickly. "Klaus was in there last."

Darn…he knew he was forgetting someone…

Klaus…He should have taken the kid home right after he finished school. Or maybe junior high schools shouldn't have Thursday's as half days…either way, he seriously didn't want to cause Klaus any more grief. They just moved there seven months ago…it was going great…

He should have known—nothing comes easy.

Sprinting down the hall, he heard a loud crash behind him. No doubt the grate finally giving way altogether to the madman on his heels…

Today really wasn't his day.

Or maybe it was.

Klaus, his thirteen-year-old younger brother, heard the fire alarm from inside the library. Now in the hallway, he spotted sight of his older brother and ran his way.

"Other way, Klaus! Go the other way!"

His brother frowned in confusion, pausing where he stood, but his eyes grew wide when he saw something behind Peter.

Glancing over his shoulder yet again, there he was—the same madman who crashed his train of thought. He almost had that equation figured out too…

Hand's moving rapidly, Klaus began to ramble in sign-language. Born without a voice, he was pretty good at it.

'_Grab the fire extinguisher! Hit him with it or shoot him or something—'_

"I'm not grabbing the damn fire extinguisher—NOW RUN!"

Rolling his eyes, Klaus obeyed. Running down the hall, he turned right at the corner and sprinted down toward the nearest exit. Luckily, it led to the parking lot.

Behind him was Peter and just a little ways further back was none other their opponent, speeding up twice as fast when he turned the corner himself.

"Get to the car, Klaus! I'll meet you out back!"

-S-

Honestly, this kid just didn't know when to give up. His younger brother—or who he was assuming to be his younger brother based on the short red hair and same green eyes—obeyed at long last and sprinted somewhere off into the parking lot. The young man followed, slipping through the door just as Slade reached out to grab him a second time, and took off down the sidewalk toward another university building.

He was getting tired of this…

-A-

There you have it—chapter one. I hope you guys are interested. It took me a while to figure out how I was going to have everything start—and I know Slade looks like the same villain he always was, but keep reading…You'll see…

_Until Again,_

_Alexnandru Van Gordon_


	2. Chapter two: Setbacks

Have a Heart

Alexnandru Van Gordon

**Important:** I just wanted to remind you guys that Slade will stay in character, but you will see his good side shine through, despite his wanting it to or not. If you ever read the comic books, yes Slade is Robin's and the Titans' greatest adversary but he's listed as a "Neutral" instead of a "Villain" like Catwoman. She's a robber but she helps out the good guys when it benefits herself or because she has a soft spot for someone. You'll see—Slade does a major good act in the end, you just have to keep with me. **BUT! HE ALSO GETS TO BE REALLY MEAN **because he doesn't want anyone knowing he's being nice…You'll see, Just bear with me for now…

Oh—and I'll stop making them speak in German, and if I do then I'll tell you when. I didn't know it would confuse you guys, so I apologize for that.

CHAPTER TWO: Setbacks

_Just keep running. Just keep running. Just keep running._

He could do that. He'd been running for the last five years and he was in better shape then most of the guys that came after him. It was the truth. But what had him worried so much now was that the maniac behind him was gaining by the second. It was uncanny how fast he could run.

"He's not human." He muttered. That could only mean he was a meta-human—and good grief! Those were always so hard to shake. They were the ones that really gave him all the trouble.

And he looked familiar too. Peter could have sworn he had seen the man in the news…his costume was just too….Well, it stood out in a person's memory.

Nearing the V-Wing Science Building, he thanked God when he saw Prof. Schneiden open the door while fishing in his jacket pocket for his keys. Waving his arms and calling in German, he finally got the man's attention.

"_Keep the door open, Prof!"_ He yelled, although he was certain he said 'door' wrong. _"And then run?"_

"You said 'door' in plural, Peter." The man replied in English, looking toward his younger friend. Then he caught sight of his opponent and jumped aside to let Peter pass.

"_Danke!"_ (Thank-you!)

He heard the man behind him bang into the door as it slammed shut in front of him, nearly jumping through the glass at the break neck speed he was going. He got the door opened again in no time soon, but by then Peter had more of a head start and was already turning down a second hallway, and then another to lose him. Finally he rounded a third corner and slid into the main forum, a large, high roofed room filled with students talking and chatting about classes. They were, to say the least, startled to see him sprint by and, at one point, nearly knock own man clear off his feet, but they paid more attention to the man that came after him. With a few shrieks and a lot of panic, the students and teachers moved aside quickly for the frustrated mercenary in hot pursuit of the newest Physics Professor.

"Good glory—won't you give up already!" Peter called after his shoulder, jumping over the flight of stairs leading down to the main entrance. "This really isn't a civilized way to talk to someone."

"I'm not here to talk."

"You're all the same. You—" He slid to a halt on the last landing but crashed into the chest of hiss pursuer anyway when he flipped down in front of him. "What the hell!"

-S-

"To continue running is pointless." Slade stated blankly, reaching out a hand to grab the front of the young man's shirt when we backed away. "You can either make this easier for yourself by giving up, or I could always knock you out and save you the grief of losing."

"Somehow, I really don't like either choice." The man struggled to free himself but only found himself lifted from the ground; feet dangle a few inches off the floor. "You're really not a people person, are you?"

"Can't say that I am."

"Too bad for you."

He didn't expect the little boy named Klaus to be in the building. When you thought about it, he didn't expect to slip on the foam of a fire extinguisher either. He was fed up with the game and slamming to his knees on the ground wasn't the fun-est experience. And to make matters worse, he let go of the man.

In a small attempt to catch the man again, he reached over toward him as Mr. Colin slid past him, grabbing hold of his sleeve as Slade began to stand. The downside to that was that he grabbed the same sleeve which tore the last time he almost caught the man in the classroom. It only tore further until it came entirely off the rest of Mr. Colin's sweater, allowing the young man another head start as he bolted out the front doors.

"I'll get you yet." Slade muttered. For now he could let him go. After all, Slade always had a back-up plan…

-E-

"I'm sorry, Klaus! It's not like I hand out my location to every bounty-hunter in the world! Be grateful we got away from the university without him on our tail."

His mute brother just crossed his arms and stared out the window, ignoring his older brother's excuses yet again. Peter—well, his real name wasn't Peter—didn't know what to do anymore. Everyone was after him constantly and he couldn't just leave Klaus somewhere different. His younger brother was his weakness, the perfect blackmail if anyone ever got their hands on him. Coming to Germany and finding a normal job was the best thing that happened to them yet. They had only been there for seven or eight months and with the school year ending, Klaus finally had some permanent friends. This time their plan almost worked…they almost began a true new life.

"Would you rather I took up my old job?" Peter muttered, pulling up into the packing lot of their apartment building. "At least then the pay included additional protection from anyone after us. Smith still calls every once in a while…"

He could see Klaus stiffen at the thought. _'No…that was a sinner's life.'_ He answered in sign language, hands moving rapidly to form the right symbols.

"Hey, stealing isn't that bad unless for greed. Although, I have to admit the pay was bigger than a job as a university professor."

He used to steal. Plain and simple as that. At first he worked for certain employers who used his brains to hack into security systems and special information. Then he took on more physical jobs and did the actual stealing himself. Smith was his last employer, someone who kept calling him back for his services. The man had a fancy for rare artifacts in the museums…

"Be grateful all you have to do is act like a normal kid and run when you're told to. I never went to a regular school. I didn't have friends."

'_Let's just leave, please, before I start to miss the place.'_

"You get the luggage bags from under the bed and I'll call the airport for tickets. Be quiet though—and don't pack a lot. What we leave behind I can pick up somewhere else."

Klaus nodded and undid his seatbelt as Peter parked. They just made it up the outdoor stairs and opened the front door when Peter heard a voice behind him.

"Hey, guys. What happened to the sleeve of your sweater, Peter?"

Klaus didn't answer, or maybe he didn't hear, and just entered the house quickly. Peter, on the other hand, ridden with guilt, turned slowly to face the young woman behind him.

"Oh. Hi, Muriel." He said softly. He knew she would figure something was wrong soon. Muriel was good at reading people's emotions, quite the empathic person.

She was younger than Peter by a few weeks and was currently six months pregnant. Slim and petit, glowing all the time, Muriel was the sweetest and shiest person he had met in his entire life. The saddest part about her was the death of her late husband four months ago in a car crash when a drunk driver swerved into his vehicle on the highway. They were both American artists, living in the flat directly above them, and both Peter and Klaus had done everything they possibly could to help Muriel with her pregnancy.

He didn't want her to suffer anymore grief than she already knew.

Paint splattered over the right side of her face, her hands, and the baggy overalls she wore for comfort, Muriel had her shoulder length brown hair pulled back into two messy braids and a small paint brush tucked behind her ear. "My doctor called." She said, staring oddly after Klaus. "I'm really sorry to ask, and I know I shouldn't be asking you because you're so busy and you have Klaus to watch and—"

"Relax, Muriel." He smiled. Another thing about her was the fact that she was constantly nervous and apologetic about absolutely everything—even if it was nowhere near her own fault. "Go ahead and ask."

"Well, I have a scheduled check-up for the baby every once and a while and I was supposed to have it next week. Dr. Fran called and said that something came up and that he switched my check-up to this afternoon instead, but my car is in the shop. I don't want to be a bother, but you're the only one left for me to ask for a ride downtown."

Darn…talk about bad timing.

"What are you guys doing anyway…?" Muriel peeked over his shoulder at Klaus who was gathering anything he could inside their flat. "Oh—are you moving again? Where to?"

"Brazil." He sighed. They had been there once before in a chase…maybe he could find somewhere secretive down there.

"Oh—my aunt lives in Brazil. She paints the rainforest, you know." Muriel's face lit up at once. "She's out in one of those villages, and I could call her if you want a place to stay."

"Really?" Well, that was an upside. "Um, we're leaving in a couple of hours…but we could give you a ride downtown if you need it."

"Oh…" She blushed in shame, a hand wandering toward her slightly rounded stomach before resting gently on it. "I really don't want to be any trouble, and it looks like you're in a hurry. I'll just take a bus."

Shaking his head, he took her free hand and led her inside the flat. "Nonsense, you look a little paler than usual. At least let us drive you there."

"Really?" Smiling warmly, she bit her lower lip. "Thanks Peter. Um…maybe I could help you guys pack. You look like you're in an awful hurry."

"That would be a great help."

"Oh—and I almost forgot!" She reached into the chest pocket of her overalls and handed him a letter. Reading off the front, she raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you changed your name."

"Huh?" He jumped when he heard a crash behind him turning to see Klaus fall into the living room with a bunch of luggage bags toppling around him. "Different name?"

"It says—to a Mr. Peter Colin for returning his name back to Eric Church."

He paled. Taking the letter from her hastily, he opened it with shaky hands. "Who gave this to you?"

"Some guy came to my door and said this had to be handed to you personally. Are you a part of the witness protection program?"

"Umm…something like that…" Unfolding the letter, he began to read the news. It was a letter from his dad…just another boast that he would be seeing Eric sooner or later, whether he wanted to or not.

Stupid jerk.

There was another crash from Klaus, still rushing around the house frantically and Eric had to roll his eyes. Crumpling the letter up in his hand as he stormed from the front entrance, he went to help Klaus in the kid's bedroom before he killed himself ruing.

"Klaus, stop trying to carry so much stuff." He pushed the boy's door opened and stared inside. "You're going to—"

"_Eric Church_? I would have never guessed."

And there, to his great displeasure, was the same maniac, window opened and Klaus face down on the ground with a knee planted into his back and both hands pinned behind.

"Oh dear." Muriel gasped behind him.

-S-

This job, by far, had to be the most interesting yet. It was true—he would have never guessed that the young man would be related to the man who was after him, and, unfortunately, that made his job more difficult than it should have been. Now he had reached a small dilemma.

"You're his son?" Slade said, his one eye narrowing at _Eric_. He had heard everything from the boy's room. "And this…" His gaze fell on the struggling kid pinned beneath him. "…I presume, is your brother."

The man stood frozen to the spot, blinking a few times as he stared at the boy. "…That just about sums it up."

Yes indeed. Now everything grew a tad bit more difficult.

Slade was a father once. His first wife, presumably dead, shot him in the eye when she found out he was a mercenary, and his second wife, too, was now supposedly dead. From his first wife he had two sons, the oldest, Grant, tried to exceed his father in his meta-human strength, speed, agility and intelligence, and had to be killed in the end. His second son, Joseph, had his throat slit when he was young as blackmail to Slade but only became mute. As he grew older he became a hero, possessing powers of his own, and, in the end, had to die by Slade's own blade when he became possessed by a demon. From his second wife came his only daughter, Rose, who was currently some place unknown in the world. He would never see her. For her sake, he didn't want to have to kill her like he had her brothers.

Seeing the older boy, chased down by his father, and his younger brother, a mute, only brought back the worst of his memories. It was now something of a living nightmare.

He didn't know if he should have just left, forgot everything about Mr. Church, or if he should have gone on with the mission like nothing had changed.

He never started anything he had no true intentions on completing.

"Get off him—you're hurting him!" The young woman—Muriel, yelled. She was as pale as a ghost and her eyes were locked on Klaus. "Stop it!"

That's right—now he had a pregnant woman to deal with too.

Slade reached a free hand to his belt and took out a pair of small cuffs. Tossing these to Muriel, he pulled the boy's arms further up his back until a loud cracking noise sounded. "I can his break both his arms in a second. Handcuff _Mr. Church's_ arms behind his back and I will stop."

She stared at the cuffs quietly and then looked to Eric. He gave her a small nod and turned sideways so Slade could see what she was doing. Rolling up the one sleeve left, she fastened the cuffs around his wrists and tightened them until she couldn't anymore. With a final click, they locked into place and the cuffs were safely secured.

While this was going on, Slade took out a second pair of cuffs and did them up tightly on the younger boy. He couldn't leave him behind now. That wouldn't work. And he also had the woman to worry about two. On his way over to the apartment, after calling up his old friend Wintergreen for a little more research, he asked the old man to send a plane of sorts to a certain location on the outskirts of the city limits. He couldn't take Eric to the airport, the young man was too smart to go that easy, and he had to wait until the morning to leave, so that left him with only one choice—

—to wait out in the apartment where he could watch his captives.

"Move out into the living-room." He ordered. "And you—" He locked eyes with the scared lady. "—can either make this easier for yourself or end up in handcuffs like them." Naturally, he wouldn't handcuff her. He could see the discomfort she was in already and the last thing he wanted to do was have to tie her up. That just wasn't…he'd say_ humane_ but, then again, much of what he did back in America wasn't humane anyway.

Look at this—mixed morals. What in the name of hell did he get himself into?

They moved into the living-room as he instructed and each took a seat on one of the couches against the far wall. The kitchen, being separated from the living-room by a single couch, was where he went, pulling out a chair and sitting down to watch them.

"You're that guy from America."

He paused as the woman spoke. "And?"

"That 'Slade' guy from Jump City." She pursed her lips, seemingly frustrated. "I used to live there, you know. Why are you bugging those poor kids?"

Good grief. This just got better.

"The Titans." He corrected her. "And they're not exactly _kids_."

"Teens—whatever. But don't they have that deal with the JL?"

What deal?

Eric, sitting to her left with his brother on his right, stared at her for a moment before joining in on the conversation. Staring at Slade, he must have sensed the confusion. "You don't know about it?"

"Do I look like I care?"

"Well, the Titans can only take charge of your disposal so long as they keep you in the city. The moment you do something outside America, the Justice League takes control and has every right to go after you. I think they're sending someone else to Jump City then."

…And how come he didn't know about this?

"You must have ticked someone off." Muriel added. "I think the Bat guy offered to take you down personally."

…That did make some sense. Slade had fought many other heroes long before the Titans were even acquainted with each other, and the Batman was one of few who were at a close tie with him. The hero still lost on the odd counts, and he could see the man coming after him to even out the score.

That wouldn't do at all. He still had plans concerning the Titans and their downfall and—as he had already reminded himself—there was nothing he ever set himself out to do that he had no intentions of finishing. That meant none of his captives could be let out of his site long enough to make a phone call. That's all it would take.

Then even more hell would break loose.

The woman shifted uncomfortably on the couch, both hands on her lap as she sighed heavily in pain. Then he noticed the ring.

"Where's your husband?" He asked quickly. If someone was expecting her then he'd have to take them down for the moment. He couldn't afford to leave her behind with what she knew and knocking her out in a closest for a couple of days wouldn't be…He didn't want her child to die. That was something that bothered him.

"My husband?" She asked, slightly surprised. Then she stared down at her left hand and moved the fingers to see her ring better. Cheeks turning red, she reached under the collar of her shirt and pulled out a chain necklace, the other matching ring hanging on the end. "Right here…"

So…he was dead. Nothing to worry about there, expect for the pregnant woman with the worst mood swings he had seen in years. She buried her face quickly in her hands and broke out crying.

"Nice going." Eric muttered. "Do you plan for these things to happen or is this just another example of your wonderful luck?"

"You're free to shut up at any time." He reached over toward the counter and tossed the woman a box of tissues. "Or is that even possible?"

"Hey, I talk for two." Eric nodded his head toward Klaus, who, in the current situation, was shaking his head and wishing silently to himself that it would all end. "Not many people know sign language."

"I do, so let your brother speak for himself."

"Untie his hands."

Great…he could see where this was going…

-A-

There you go—hey, now I'm getting back into the habit of writing longer chapters. Anyway, I forgot to tell you guys that you get to grade me…or something like that. If I'm late on my word of updating I know you get to disqualify, so…I'll find out the rest of it later. Anyway—you guys are confusing me with The League's Hunt, but I'll talk to you guys about that later too. There was a blackout yesterday afternoon at school so I had so much time to work on my stories…Let's hope I get something else in besides TLH or this one. See you around.

_Until Again,_

_Alexnandru Van Gordon_


	3. Chapter three: Sin

Have a Heart

Alexnandru Van Gordon

Before I say anything else, I have to give credit to Victor for lending me the idea of Muriel and her…_(cough cough)_…current state. I think that's exactly what old one-eye needs to get his mercy showing, a woman with her child. I know he was a father once and, if you've ever read the comics, you should know that losing his kids was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. Having to see Rose (his daughter) go probably hit a sore spot…then again, he didn't even know she was born until she was at least a 'young lady'…Hmmm…now I feel bad for the villain—AH! NO! That can't happen! I support the heroes entirely…or do I O.o?...

Oh yeah—the TEEN TITANS will make an appearance, but not for a while now. Slade has to get out of the Germany first and who better to help him than Wintergreen…

CHAPTER THREE: Sin

It should have been easy. Yes? Go in, grab the guy, and leave through the backdoor. End of story. It would have been even easier if he just had to "Go in, _shoot_ the guy, and then leave through the backdoor", and you better believe he wouldn't mind putting a bullet in someone's thigh, but fate had a funny way with playing with him. It had always been like that. He'd go off somewhere in the world, wreak absolute havoc someplace where he could torment some fool who fought for good and justice (and as if _that_ was even true—no one's _that_ white), and then something would pop to try and dig up the good side of him. He guessed it was true themn. Yu couldn't bury the past or anything else with you.

Talk about a day of the walking dead. If you considered his good side as an actual person, the death date on their gravestone would read at least a decade ago. Unless you considered that one time he helped the Titans defeat Trigon…No, that was revenge. Purely and entirely revenge. He wanted the world destroyed…yes indeed…

Then why did his conscience suddenly rise from the dead?

Muriel had finished crying a short while ago. She was a little red in the face and started hiccupping as she stared out the kitchen window from where she sat next to Eric, and Klaus, sitting on his other side, shifted every five minutes in discomfort. He was probably trying to slip his hands out of the cups but there was no use in doing that. Slade designed them himself. That left Eric who, still all grim and glares, was having a sort of staring contest with Slade. The young man would look away every once and while, but he would eventually go back to glaring at him. He had to admit…it was beginning to be unnerving.

Then more back luck hit.

"Something's burning." Eric said, eyes staring up at the ceiling. "You didn't forget anything in the oven did you Muriel?"

She paused for a second, sniffing the air. "I don't remember….AH! _The cake_!"

"Why were you making a cake?"

"It's Klaus birthday in two days. I was _supposed_ to be volunteering at the charity banquet tomorrow so I wanted to make it today." She looked at Slade. "You have to believe me when I say that if anything catches on fire in the oven, the whole place will burn down. Unless you want attention from the rest of the neighborhood, someone has to go up there and put it out."

He sighed. This was just what he didn't need.

"Get up." He ordered and she stood. When Klaus moved to stand, Slade glared him down. "I trust you won't leave without your friend. You don't cause her any more pain than what she's already in."

Klaus gulped silently, Eric continued with the glares, and Muriel gave them a worried look before she was led to the front door quickly. Quite frankly, he didn't trust leaving Eric behind. All he had to do was wait for him to make the wrong move…

-E-

"Well, isn't he a barrel of joy." Eric muttered, placing both hands on his lap, the cuffs still locked around wrist, as the front door slammed shut. "Now we have only one little setback…"

Klaus pulled both hands forward as well, still trying to unlock the cuffs from his left wrist. His other one hand, like his brother's, was free.

'_Muriel?' _Klaus paused, hands resting for a moment as he thought. _'You're not going to…leave her…are you?'_

"Hell no! That's the setback from our next escape…I don't know if he'd actually hurt a pregnant woman…"

'…_Are you going to fight then?'_

"I think I'd die after taking the first blow." Eric admitted in defeat. "I'd try something if I had to, but I don't think hitting him is going to do me much good. The guy is wanted behind bars by almost every hero out there, and many of them he's beaten in the past. What we need…is his attention away from Muriel…Do you know how to start up the car?"

Klaus nodded his head.

"Good. Here." Eric reached into his back pocket and handed Klaus the keys. "Get down to the parking lot and start it up. I'll get Muriel to you but if _he_ finds out, either run him over or run like hell."

'_What about you?'_

"I'll be fine….I'll have Muriel to keep me company."

With that, they stood, Klaus starting toward the front door while Eric made his away around the couch to the back window. Pausing for just a second to see his younger brother go, Eric opened the large window and stepped up onto the windowsill with one foot. Taking a deep breath, he jumped—

—and caught hold of a large branch. Tall oak tree were planted everywhere behind the building, in any place to show off some beauty. Muriel sometimes painted the trees when there was a nice sunrise or sunset to colour the sky behind it.

Pulling himself up quickly, he stepped onto the branch and then jumped up to settle himself carefully down on the next one. With two more branches, he was level with the identical open window at the back of Muriel's flat.

Climbing out to the end of the branch, he kept himself low enough to hide from their view. The mercenary stood in the doorway, just where he could see Muriel make her way over toward a smoking oven, waving a potholder in front of her face to fan the fumes away.

"Okay…now what?" He muttered to himself. He couldn't get inside without getting noticed. "What do I need to do…?"

Shoving hand into one of his pockets, he fished around for something interesting and brightened up when he hand brushed against someone.

"Temporary…" He said, looking at it in his hand. "But it'll help..."

_I hope_.

-M-

What a life…How did she get herself into these things? First she has an unborn child, then her husband dies, and now her best friends were about to get abducted. Go figure. No wonder why they say an artist life is nothing like the usual…Although, she didn't think they meant it to such an extreme.

She opened the oven door and sighed to herself when she saw a wisp of the fire inside. Stupid cake…she was never able to cook anything.

Suddenly very calm, she turned around and made her way toward the bedroom where the fire extinguisher was kept in the closet.

"Where do you think you're going?"

She jumped. She hadn't expected him to suddenly pop up in front of her.

"I need the fire extinguisher." She answered truthfully, stepping around him into the room. "But it's on the top shelf."

Amazingly, she didn't have to ask any further. He stepped inside after her and opened the closet door, reaching up with one long arm to grab the end of the fir extinguisher. Her husband had put it all the way up there…

Curse mood swings.

Now following him, they went into the kitchen where he opened the oven door and quickly set the extinguisher off—

—and that's when someone grabbed her arm. A gentle hand made its way over her mouth and the new captor dragged her toward the window…

-E-

"_SHHH!_ You want him to hear you!"

He had to admit, dragging a woman out a window three stories up wasn't the best idea, but the branches held when he fell, catching her and carefully setting her down beside him. That's when she started to cry and buried her face in his chest.

"You scared me!" She wept. "Why did you throw me out the window?"

"Not now, Muriel. Just keep quiet for a second…"

She held her breath, hearing the movement inside her flat…

-S-

One last thing to worry about: a burning apartment building. But he shouldn't have turned his back on her. The front door was visible in the corner of his eye and he knew she stood behind him near the window…but she wouldn't be crazy enough to jump? There weren't one too many women he knew of who would risk losing their child…

Turning around, he quickly peeked into the bedroom in search of her before actually stepping up to the window to check. Sure enough, there she was…with _him_.

Eric Church was smarter than he looked.

-E-

The instant Muriel's feet were on the ground Eric released her hand and jumped down beside her. Now all they needed to do was get around to the parking lot and find Klaus. Then…hmm, what then? He should probably try to get to the airport but that might be too obvious. What else? The train? Just a drive out of the city to another airport? That would take too long…

But anywhere was better then where he was. He had Muriel and Klaus to worry about. The most logical thing to do was just drive—drive as far away as he could before resting to make up some form of escape.

"EEP!" Muriel yelped, stepping away from Eric. She was gazing over his shoulder…

Spinning around, Eric looked down at the crouching man. Had he jump from the window? That was three stories up! Unless…

Oh yeah, he probably wasn't human.

"Wow…I wasn't expecting that…" Eric muttered, backing up as the man stood to his full height. "What exactly are you?"

"You don't need to know." Slade said, starting forward. "But perhaps you could tell me how you got out."

"Run, Muriel."

The woman listened and fled to the side of the building, making her way around toward the parking lot. Meanwhile, the mercenary came forward with a kick. Eric caught it in the chest and was thrown back quite a ways before he could make it to his feet again, ducking just in time to avoid a hit to the head. The worst part about it was that he didn't have time to hit back. It was just one dodge after the other. He didn't even dare to block anything, worried that he'd break something in the process. His chest already felt like it would collapse on him.

"Hard hitter, huh?" His back hit another tree trunk. "That's okay. Let out all the frustration."

"Are you a psychiatrist now?" The man replied, walking forward calmly to continue the attack. He didn't sound the slightest bit out of breath.

"Hey, I graduated. I didn't exactly get the chance to start up anywhere seeing that I'm constantly on the run." Eric looked up. "But that's okay, just keep fuming."

The man aimed a second side-kick for the center of his chest, but this time Eric had time to act. He jumped up and grabbed the branch above his head, swinging up quickly until he stood on it.

"Whoa…" Holding out his arms, he caught his balance. "I haven't done that in ages. You can come up here if you want, but consider weight."

The man didn't say anything. Instead he jumped.

-M-

She found Klaus waiting in the car, turning in out and stepping outside at the sight of her. By the look on his face, she could tell he expected his brother to be with her…

"Klaus, dear, I need you to do something for me." Muriel began, reaching into one of her overall pockets and pulling out her keys. "Go upstairs into my room and find that large wooden chest which belonged to my dad. Inside that you'll find a smaller red box. Bring that to me."

He appeared confused at first…but took the keys and started up the stairs toward her flat in a made dash. She leaned against the hood of the car and relaxed, taking a deep breath and resting a hand on her stomach. She could do this. Yes indeed. She survived the death of her husband so yeah…She owed this to Pete—_Eric _and Klaus for all they've done for her.

It was her right to act in defense right?

Muriel was nervous, and the wait for Klaus suddenly shortened to a second for her. With shaky hands she took the small red box and opened it up.

"Klaus, stay in the car…"

-S-

He had to give the young man credit for holding out for as long as he was. There had to be something else in his profession besides a 'guy on the run' and a Physics professor. There was just too much information out of place for this to seem as simple as it really was.

He'd have to ask Wintergreen about searching up 'Eric Church' instead of 'Peter Colin' if he wanted anything worth his time.

Eric fell from one mid-way branches, landing on his feet. But Slade could see him cringe. A bruise was blossoming on his left arm where Slade tore off the sleeve earlier in the day, the same place where Slade grabbed him and threw him down. His knuckles were red from punching back whenever he had the chance and the young man was starting to get out of breath.

"Do you give up yet?" Slade asked, stepping off one of the higher branches calmly. He landed gracefully only a few feet to the side of Eric, straightening to his full and menacing height as he cracked his neck out of its cramp. The boy could deliver a good hit, Slade had to give him that, but unless the young man suddenly drew out a hidden weapon or showed a change from his mortal strength, Eric was good as done.

"Didn't your parents tell you to never give up?" Eric straightened himself, rubbing his left arm where the bruise darkened. "Wait, don't answer that. I'm betting you killed them…"

"No." He answered, sighing. This was taking too long.

Slade came forward with another punch, which was dodged, slapping aside one of the young man's slower uppercuts. Then he caught the young man in the stomach, pausing to let the man curl into the attack. He bent forward slightly, face hidden as gasped for breath.

"I think we're done here." Slade smirked to himself. He had to admit, it was a change from the usual full frontal assault by the Teen Titans, but it was a good one. Now he knew to watch out for people bearing pepper-spray.

A gun-shot pierced the silence in that instant. Slade was partly surprised, unknowing of who possessed the weapon.

Eric pushed away from Slade, straightening as best he could with one hand pressing against his stomach. He stared Slade in the eye…before looking down at the man's right side. There, pouring from a small hole between the ribs, blood began to stain his suit.

Stunned, he turned his body slightly and stared at the new attacker. In the past he had survived an array of different fatal attacks, everything from explosions to a couple dozen bullet sin the chest. This was nothing. When you were immortal, everything was graded on an entirely different chart.

But death was still death and he'd be KO'd (_Alex: Means Knocked-out or Killed-off in some games_) for a time being until his body could heal. That could take anywhere from a few minutes to a couple of days…

A second bullet caught him in the heart when he turned. And wasn't this an odd little world…

The woman…

He didn't have time to say anything. The ground came rushing up to meet him as he fainted.

-M-

She could faintly hear Eric calling her name as he ran to her side. But she turned away from him. Dropping the gun, she leaned against the building side and vomited as shock set in. There was a buzz ringing in her ears and everything she saw seemed to come from a dream. The numb feeling only made her feel sick.

Sins of the Father…and the Mother…Muriel remembered her grandmother telling her why babies were baptized. It was because a child was born with the sins of its parents weighing down on their sins. Baptizing them cleared their slates until they did whatever crimes they did in the world…

Well, if she died—which she suspected she _would_ after all she'd seen happen—before her child was born, it would murder on its conscious.

Why couldn't she have been an atheist?

"Muriel. Muriel…calm down. It's okay…" She fell to her knees but with Eric's hands holding her arms the fall was gentle. He knelt beside her and let her rest her head against his chest as she cried. What had she done? She killed someone…But he was going to hurt Klaus and Eric and her baby…She couldn't let that happen. Her actions were justified…weren't they…?

"I-I…I'm so h-horrible." She stuttered. Her entire body began to shake. "I killed a man…"

Eric held her close and brought her to her feet. Then he led her around toward the parking lot, bending down quickly to pick up the discarded projectile. "I'm taking you back to America on the first plane leaving Germany tonight. You should stay with your parents until the baby's born."

"Y-yeah…" Yes…that would do… "Home…"

She let her close friend lead her away to his car, letting her sit up front with him as she drifted into the back of her mind silently. She wasn't a murderer….she had a good cause…she had a good cause…a good cause…a cause…

But who would have thought men could come back from the dead…

-A-

I know I'm getting penalized by some of you guys because I had Slade take on a mercenary job. I began thinking, yeah…he seems more like the evil-mastermind villain who would plot his own plans…but then I got the new Nightwing comics and discovered that Slade does, in fact, still do the mercenary jobs every then and again. The last one I read, which was a week ago, was when Blockbuster paid him and a few other mercenaries to get a 'gorilla's heart'…It was weird. But hey, that means my plot is legit. Have fun reading and writing you guys. I hope you enjoyed the chapter.

_Until Again,_

_Alexnandru Van Gordon_


	4. Chapter four: Back on track

Have a Heart

Alexnandru Van Gordon

Wow…I really feel bad now for what I did to Muriel…But besides that, thanks for all the reviews. I do realize I'm going a little too slow with the kind-o-meter of Slade, so I'll have to do something about that. But don't worry. I have a lot of things planned out for you to see. Slade's going to have one hell of a time trying to complete this mission…

**Important:** And just as a head's up, this chapter starts from someone else's POV. So don't worry about trying to guess why they are—just imagine a new character. Oh—and don't worry about Eric either. You'll find out what's so important about him sooner or later.

CHAPTER FOUR: Back on trrack

The man was an easy kill. His security system wasn't worth putting up and the disk was hidden dead center in the middle of the safe. It was almost as though he was begging for it to be stolen…

"Open sesame…"

The small bomb went off in a blast and the safe door fell from its hinges to the office floor. Not waiting for the smoke to settle, the brother's stepped inside.

'_Mark, you got it?'_

Reaching into the safe, Mark tapped the communicator attached to his ear. "Yep. Matthew's going to throw the old man in the back of the truck and then we'll be on our way to Magdeburg."

'_No one else saw?'_

"Not a soul."

'_Good, then get to the airport.'_

Mark's brother, Matthew, who was currently lifting the dead body over his shoulder, freed one hand for a moment to touch his own ear communicator. "Excuse me? You said once we delivered the disk we could collect our money and drive down from Berlin to Magdeburg. I'm not flying to France or wherever for another job. I promised my aunt we'd come and see her."

'_Then what? Tell her all her about your wonderful Hitman life?'_

Matthew muttered a series of insults, but Mark answered first. "What's so important that we have to cut our vacation short? This is the first time we've been to Germany."

'_Trust me. You **don't** want to miss this job.'_

"And why wouldn't we?" Matthew grumbled.

'_Skylark is paying seven and a half million dollars to anyone who can get the Church boy back to America alive before his father's team. It seems as though one of my connections found him in Berlin, no doubt headed for the airport.'_

"Are you serious?" Matthew stared across the room at his brother. "Whoa…I thought he died…"

'_Faked it, obviously.'_

"Alright then…who're we up against?"

'_So far only one other guy, but you might not like this…'_

"Why not?"

'_It's the guy off the news. Deathstroke…'_

-W (Wintergreen)-

He was ready with the jet, just about to take off actually, when he got the call. Lifting up his cell phone, he sighed.

"Hello?"

"_I need you to do two things for me."_

It was Slade.

Standing up from the pilot's seat, he switched with one of Slade's commando robots and buckled up in the back. "And what exactly do you need done?"

"_First of all, I want you to do a search on Mr. Church and his sons, Klaus and Eric."_

Wintergreen reached with his free hand for the suitcase under his seat. Setting it on his lap, he lifted the lid and opened the lap-top inside. "Done. And what's the second thing?"

"_I need you to fool around with the airport system in Berlin."_

"Hmmm…" Turning on the screen, Wintergreen signed in his passwords. "That might take a while. How long do I have?"

"_Half an hour."_

Wintergreen smiled. "Alright then. I'll see you in a while. Same spot outside the city, I take it?"

"_Yes."_

"Have fun then." He said and hung up.

Things always turned interesting when you left the country…

-E-

He was now glad airports had computers to pre-order tickets, but what got to him were the long line ups. Klaus had given up standing with him as they waited and decided to sit with Muriel instead who, by the look of things, was a little worse for weather. She hadn't said anything since they left for the airport and the pale complexion was starting to attract people and their annoying questions.

Poor girl.

'_Muriel doesn't want to go home.'_ Klaus had returned to him, tugging on his sleeve so he would watch his sign language. _'She says doesn't want her family to think of her as a murderer.'_

"Not to worry. She just has to tell them…a lie…like…she missed them." Eric shrugged. Then he stared rudely back at the woman who was eyeing his bruised arm until she looked away. "I mean, it's not like we can take her to Brazil with us. If she didn't like the episode we just had with the dead guy, she shouldn't stick around."

'_That's mean.'_

"No, dragging her into our life would be even worse. Besides, she's about to have a baby. I'm surprised she can still run…"

'_Talk to her then.'_

Eric rolled his eyes. "Fine, but stay in line. If you let anyone pass you, I'll kill you."

Klaus mocked laughing. _'See you soon.'_

"Yeah, whatever…" Passing through the people in line toward the sitting area, he made his way around the seats until he found Muriel. He wasn't even sure she saw him. Her eyes were pinned on her feet.

Crouching down in front of her, Eric stole her gaze. "How you feeling?"

"I-I can't go back." She sobbed. "N-not after what I-I've done."

This was going to kill her conscience. He could tell. The other thing he could tell was that the minute they were back in America, she would turn herself into the police like the good-natured woman she was.

He really didn't want to go back to that country.

Rubbing his thighs nervously, he tried to think of what to say. "Then…where do you want to go?"

"Away from everyone…"

He knew he was going to regret this sooner or later.

"Do you want to come with me and Klaus to Brazil? You could paint there."

Muriel hesitated in thought, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. "I-I don't want to be a burden."

"I've dealt with worse." He chuckled and she laughed slightly at the small joke. "But seriously, the last thing you need to worry about is that man. You saved me and I owe it to you now."

"But why was he after you?"

"Because…Because…" He bit his lower lip. How was he supposed to tell the truth? "Because…I'm a freak. Luck just doesn't run well for me."

"You seem pretty amazing to me." She whispered, patting the empty seat next to her. He took the offer and sat next to her. "Well then…are you going to tell me everything now that I'm drawn into your plot, or do I have to continue guessing?"

"Hmmm…how about I tell you somewhere a little more private than this…" He gazed around the airport. "Maybe when we get into Brazil…"

Muriel gasped.

"Muriel?" He turned to look at her and froze up instantly. Pressed against the back of her head was the barrel of a gun, and the man standing behind her had it hidden well. Looking up at the man's face, Eric scowled.

"Married—and waiting for a kid no less. Looks like you've been pretty busy lately, Church."

"Hey Matthew…" Eric muttered, staring at the man coldly. He was tall and slim, stronger than Eric but about the same age. The real only advantage Eric had against him were his brains. "Where's your twin?"

"With your brother." Matthew replied, lively green eyes staring across the people for his black-haired twins. "You look Scottish today, Eric. Is your hair really that red or did you dye it for hiding purposes?"

"Natural."

"Good to hear…" Matthew squinted. "Oh—and there we go. Mark has Klaus. This was rather simple…"

"Nothing comes easy, Matthew."

"And I suppose you would be the expert on that subject, wouldn't you?" Matthew grabbed Muriel's arm and pulled her to her feet, pressing the gun against her side instead. "Stand up, Eric. We're going to take you and your family home."

Eric wanted to hit the man, but a look at Muriel's face made him rethink that action. She was still getting over shock and now another situation presented itself…

He was glad he picked up Muriel's gun…

Just then the lights flickered…once…then twice…until finally the entire place was bathed in darkness. The only light came from the faint glow outside the window but it was already sunset and the light wouldn't last long…

Maybe this was a stroke of luck?

-S-

In a small fit of panic, people began to wonder about, keeping hold of their things in fear of having them stolen. So far, so good. Wintergreen pulled through for him by shutting of the electricity and not too soon either. Decked momentarily in a long coat, hat, and scarf, he caught sight of Klaus in the line-up just before the lights went out.

Slipping into the center of the dispersing crowd, he came up behind a young black-haired man and tapped him on the shoulder. With a curious, "huh?" the young man turned around—and received a quick blow to the head before he fell to the ground. Klaus, whose arm was once held by the man's, almost stumbled and backed away from the fallen figure. Then he looked up and squinted at Slade.

"Give me your hand." Slade ordered, the boy recognizing his voice. But the boy obeyed anyway, allowing Slade to take his hand into his own.

Then he stepped over the fallen body, leading Klaus through the dim light toward the startled crowd of people in the sitting area. He had seen Muriel and Eric sitting there earlier, standing when a man identical to the one with Klaus came to speak with them. Slade noticed the gun. It was another team of bounty-hunters.

And what exactly was so important about Eric Church? So far it seemed people only wanted him alive.

As he neared, none of the three people noticing him, he caught sight of Eric knocking out the new man with a straight punch to the face. It wasn't a bad hit either…

"Sit here." He said to Klaus, releasing his hand and pointing to an empty seat. He shrugged off his small disguise and threw it onto the seat next to him, striding off to finish his job.

The boy didn't hesitate to listen…he just sat down quietly as he watched a smooth ending fall into play.

-M-

"Nice hit…" She breathed, stepping aside just as the young man passed out on the floor. "…I didn't know you could hit so hard."

"Well, I'm not as strong as I need to be." He murmured, cracking the sore knuckles on his hand by making a fist. "If I take a hit to the head I'll be out for a day or two."

"Really?" She allowed herself to smile and squinted to see him better in the dark. It was then that she noticed the man now standing behind him—and nearly fainted when she did.

"What's wrong?" Eric asked. At the sight of her face, he spun around to see the _dead_ man face to face…He didn't say anything.

"You're…you're supposed to be dead…." Muriel breathed, not sure whether to run or die on the spot from a heart attack. "I…I shot you…"

"That, you did." Slade, moving his arm, showed the two holes in his chest where she shot him, the material still bloody. "I admit, your aim was unexpected."

The world seemed to spin again, everything going numb. He father was a cop before he retired, and she used to follow him on hunting trips when she was younger. That was where she learned to shoot…

"Sorry…" She murmured. And then she passed out.

-E-

Luckily, he caught her before her head hit one of the seats. Usually he would be more worried about putting as much distance as he most possibly could between him and Slade, but he had no idea where the hell Klaus was and he couldn't carry Muriel _gently_ in the condition she was in.

Today was just full of surprises.

"What are you?" He asked, staring up at Slade. The other man was making no move to hurt him. "Unless that's fake blood, I doubt you're human."

"I can assure you, the blood is real. And as for the matter of humanity…Not quite."

"Where's my brother?"

"Safe…" Slade reached to his belt, taking out yet another pair of cuffs. "You can see him soon."

"Jeez, you have a lot of those…"

This really wasn't his day.

This "_really" _wasn't his day…

-A-

Well, I have to get going. I'll be gone for a while so please don't be upset if you don't see an update from my other stories in while. I'll get back to them as soon as I can, but both Victor and I will have our hands full. Oh yeah—he started his first story. _"Hurt to Save"_ under the account name of _The Brothers of SilverCross52._ Read it if you want (Slade vs. Robin), and if you know him then you might understand what I'm talking about. Please have a wonderful day/night and pray for everyone who needs help and good health.

_Signed,_

_Cancer_


	5. Chapter five: The Church family

Have a Heart

Alexnandru Van Gordon

I'm back, boys and girls! Wow…I never thought Religion Camp would be so…interesting…Oh well, now I have time to continue on my stories, but I have to do this first for purposes of the competition. I also want to thank all of you who are reading this story. I'll have to get back to reading yours so—**if I haven't reviewed your competition story yet, PLEASE tell me, and I will get to it this weekend.**

**PS: **I don't know if anyone else noticed, but DLsky did—I made the airport "lights-out" situation a little far-fetched for the sake that everyone has something fantastical happening in their story. Oh—and only the lights failed. If "all" the power were to go out then no planes could land or take off because…well, if you ever saw the "Die Hard" movie you'd know what I'm talking about. The airport tells them the distance, time and speed they should go at when flying in that area and if the power went off then…wow…talk about collateral damage…

CHAPTER FIVE: The Church family

Eric could have seen Klaus and he could have carried Muriel to the car. After all, that's what he expected to happen after Slade caught up to him. But the man must have had a change of heart. Instead of keeping Muriel and his younger brother captive, he took the pregnant from Eric and made his way through the panicking mass back to where Klaus sat. Seating her down, Slade told his brother to watch and took Eric by the arm.

Then they left.

"Get in."

Eric hesitated a moment before sliding into the passenger seat of the car. Doing up his seat belt, he raised his hands when Slade took out one pair of his many cuffs. With them he cuffed him to the high safety bar above the door (Alex: if you ever see them, some people hang clothes up on them. You can also hold onto them when the car rocks or hits harsh terrain.).

"Why the change?" He asked when Slade slid into the driver's seat. It was dark outside, the sun neatly set over the horizon.

"I can go back and get them if you want." He warned.

Eric smiled to himself.

"If they were smart then they'd take their tickets and fly to Brazil." Slade continued. "But if that woman friend of yours is as half as determined as she was when she shot me, then I suspect we'll be seeing more of them soon."

"What makes you think that?"

Slade must have been smiling behind his mask.

"Because, she didn't really faint." He started up the car and backed out from the parking space. "But she's not a bad actor either. If her husband is really dead, then you should marry her."

Eric didn't say a thing. He scowled to himself silently and stared out the window as they drove off, half-curious about the dark blue car following behind them…

-M-

She wasn't keen on killing a man. She wasn't keen on seeing him rising from the dead either, but whoever said life was as easy as a cake-walk deserved a bullet or two in the back of the head. Life was anything but easy for her, ever since she got married. She hadn't been with her husband for more than a year before he died in a car crash—not to mention she was pregnant at the time! Then she stayed in Germany alone, started back up on her painting career and tried to live peacefully…

That's before she moved one door up from two guys hiding from who-know-how-many mercenaries or hitmen—or _whatever _they were! She didn't really care! For the sake of her baby she should have bought a ticket, grabbed Klaus and moved to Brazil for the rest of her life. But what was the use of that? With some guy thinking she was married to 'Eric' then she should have turned herself in right then and there.

Well…as her grandmother always put it—if you can't run _away_, then run full speed back. If she couldn't live a normal life now, then she never would. Might as well do something about it.

The moment Slade took Eric away, she opened her eyes and turned to the stunned, but still conscious, Klaus and said only one thing:

"You're either with me or you're not. I'll give you money to buy a plane ticket, but if you're staying then you're helping me get your brother back."

He just stared at her.

"Nod your head if you staying."

He nodded.

"Good, now for the fireworks…"

Standing and shouting out a couple of apologizes, she made her way through the bustling crowd and squinted her way through the dim emergency lights in search of the damn man who held the gun to her head. Upon finding him, she grabbed his gun, fished through his pocket for a key, and stood. Taking Klaus by the hand, she hurried him over toward the front entrance.

It wasn't easy to get outside, but she managed. Running was a harder task, but she could see Slade and Eric at the far end of the parking lot when she arrived outside. Eric parked in the center lot near the east entrance.

"Don't look suspicious." She said, walking over toward one of the rental cars. Car companies made only four different keys, each that worked only on the same kind of car. After trying two of the cars, she started to panic. But the third, a dark blue, finally worked for her sake.

"Yay! Score one for me! Jump on Klaus."

The boy, seeming to wake from his shock, nodded with a grin and waited for her to open the passenger door before hopping in.

Then they were off.

-S-

The highway roads were pretty crowded. It could have been because of the sudden power outage in the airport, but he doubted that for the most part. After a long enough wait, he turned on the radio to a news station, listening to the hard German for anything about traffic.

'_There was an accident on Route 7 this afternoon around five-thirty.'_ A woman said quickly. _'One delivery truck sped down the highway and collided with a small vehicle. Seven other vehicles then followed into the disaster and blocked up each lane heading south to Magdeburg—'_

"That explains a lot." Eric muttered, interrupting the weather report—rainy near midnight—which followed. "This could take until tomorrow."

"And why are you telling me this?"

"I'd rather go to hell than spend an entire day trapped in a car with you." He grumbled. "No offense."

Slade thought it over. "None taken." They couldn't stay there anyway. Wintergreen was supposed to meet him in three hours. He'd either have to change the meeting place or tell him he'd be late…

Slade was a patient man, but he wasn't _that_ patient.

Waiting for one of the front cars to inch forward impatiently, he slipped through a gap onto other lanes riding in the other direction. Cars honked their disproval but he didn't care. In less than a minute he was speeding back toward Berlin.

In half an hour or so, he found a diner/gas station off the side of the highway. Pulling into one of the parking lots, he stopped the vehicle.

"If I return to find you gone, rest assured, I'll get you." Slade warned before he slammed the driver's seat door. "Try to get anyone to help you and I'll kill them."

"Don't worry." Eric sighed. 'I promise to behave."

"Good."

Turning toward the bar, he stepped onto the wooden porch and made his way around to the back quietly, careful not to be seen. Then, rolling up his fist, he knocked hard on the back door.

There were a few mutters on the inside, followed by a rude shout, before a lock creaked and the door opened partway to short and stubby man. He didn't have a chance to say anything, though, when Slade's second fist connected with his mouth. Knocked out, Slade stepped over the body casually and made his way through the small, messy kitchen toward the black phone hanging off the far wall. Picking up the receiver, he dialed his number…

-W-

Although he was confused by the caller ID on his cell-phone, he answered anyway. Still sitting in the back with the laptop on his thighs, he sighed.

"Slade?"

"_Change of plans. Route—"_

"—7 is blocked off by an accident. I know…" He allowed himself to grin. Being in the military with the man even before he took up his malevolent occupation, Wintergreen knew to never stop monitoring the operation. Bad things tended to happen. "I've already picked out the second meeting place. It's a mile off Route 23 by an old air hanger. You can't miss it. Its abandon and no one lives near the place."

"_And what did you find out about the Church family?"_

"For such a decent surname…" He clicked up a few windows on the homepage of his computer. "…Mr. Church is quite the maniac. Do you have a moment?"

"_I'm in Germany. What else could I possibly have to do here?"_

"I see…Moving on—the father fits the description of mad scientist. For all I know, he could have come up with the atomic bomb if he lived way-back-when."

"_His son is a university professor. It's plausible."_

"In any case, he was arrested nearly thirty years ago but was broken out fives days later, still at large."

"_What was he in for?"_

"What else? Experimentation."

"_Men? Women? Children—"_

"Infants." He sighed. "Imagine a three month old boy or girl going through the same procedure that made you immortal."

There was silence on the other side of the line. Either Slade was surprised or he was thinking hard about something.

Clearing his voice, the old veteran continued. "He wasn't aiming to make a super-soldier, though. He just wanted to advance the human brain."

"_And?"_

"Half the infants died during his chemical procedures. Besides three, the rest died a week after signs of advancement."

"_What was so special about the other three?"_

"Sad story, actually. They were injected with his serums before birth. One was born premature and died a day after its birth. The second died two weeks later due to heart failure, hereditary, and the third, successful, was none other than Eric Church, his own son. His wife died giving birth."

There was an even longer pause on Slade's end of the line, but Wintergreen decided to wait for a sign of sanity before going on.

"_What about Klaus?"_

"He's normal so far as I can tell. He could be Eric's stepbrother, but I think he's more likely a half-brother. But all of this was hidden well by numerous sources. So far as the normal world knows, Eric Church doesn't exist."

"_Has he always been on the run?"_

"For a couple of years. Not too long though—and he came back to America to grab his younger brother before continuing on his way. His father's been after him for a couple of years now, along with a couple of other people—and a lot of cops."

"_Why?"_

"He used to be a thief. Nothing petty, mind you, but he's been close to being arrested for quite a few heists. Then some of his employers were arrested. He's never actually been caught before you came along, so congrats at that."

"_And why is he wanted? He's not the only super-genius in the world."_

"You'll have to get that out of him on your own."

"_There's absolutely nothing about him that you can pick up on that?"_

"None at all. Now, what are you going to do about it?"

"_Get it out of him."_

Wintergreen grinned. "Really? All you have to do is deliver him alive and whole, collect your cash, and go back to defeating the Teen Titans. Why would you possibly want to dig yourself into his past?"

"_There's more to this than what meets the eye. It might come in handy."_

"With what? Destroying the world?"

"_Maybe."_

"Have fun."

Slade hung up on the other end and Wintergreen laughed.

Some men never change.

-M-

Traffic was crazy and she wasn't sure she'd be able to keep up with Slade and Eric at the rate the highway was moving. You wouldn't believe how relieved she had to park on the highway behind a long line of vehicles, turning to stare at the diner on the side of the road. It was actually Klaus who spotted the license plate first, leaning across her and pointing at Eric's car. It was dark outside and she couldn't see if anyone was still inside the vehicle, but she was ready to risk a chance at finding her friend.

Pulling her car out of line, she cut across the empty lanes and pulled into the diner parking-lot where she told Klaus to stay. Holding her behind her back, she stepped outside the car and made her way toward the vehicle.

Parked under a lamp post, she could see one figure inside. Judging by what she could see, it must have been Eric…

And it was.

Knocking on the window, she must have startled him. He was staring in the general direction of the diner with an edgy appearance to his body, not to mention his hands were hand cuffed to car.

He jumped when he saw her, but allowed himself to smile for a moment. Leaning his face down awkwardly, he grabbed the door lock pin with his teeth and pulled it up to let Muriel in.

"You okay?" She asked, staring up at the cuffs. "Looks like you're kind of tied up, eh?"

"I'm hungry and a little tired, but altogether fine—what the hell are you doing here? I though you would have waited at the airport?"

She shook her head. "I couldn't just leave you."

"That's no excuse."

"Fine then. I blame my insanity on the mood swings."

He didn't argue against that.

"So…" She touched the cuffs with her free hand. "Do I shoot these off?"

"Hell no! Slade would hear and then he'd be outside before you could get away."

"Then what do I do? Hotwire the car?"

He smiled. "You could always leave me."

She shook her head. "No way. I have a better idea…"

-A-

YAY! One chapter down. Now for my other stories…Oh well, I might turn in for the night because my back is going out on me again. Here's a piece of advice for all you young boys and girls who like to avoid pain—watch your step on ladders.

_Until Again,_

_Alexnandru Van Gordon_


	6. Chapter six: Another catch

Have a Heart

Alexnandru Van Gordon

I'm sorry if I was gone again for so long. School just got a bit more complicated and last week I had a major exam in seven of my nine subjects. And to add to that, apparently freedom of religion is being neglected in the school system…for some reason, the last religion celebration we had for remembrance day was "against their law"…What the hell is the world coming to? I go to a Catholic school for goodness sake!

Sorry…I need to vent ever once in a while or I blow it big time with some poor innocent by-stander…

BTW: **IMPORTANT**: All of you people who are reading the stories from Darla's competition (or at least a couple of them), have to send her an e-mail telling her, in order, the best story to the…least interesting story in the challenge. It would be much appreciated and if you do, I'll give you a cookie.

CHAPTER SIX: …Another catch

When he got back to America, he was going to have a _long_ talk with Dr. Church. Mad scientist? That was alright—he was something of one himself—but experimenting on small infants was…a little inhumane, even in the eyes of someone like Slade. At least when he himself set out for experimentation, he got something out of it and knew he was volunteering for something painful. A child is a child and a child _can't_ make the right decisions. That's something that had to come with age…

Stepping over the unconscious cook, he reached out to open the back door and regretted that decision the moment he stepped outside. A gunshot echoed in the night and pain erupted in his neck on the left side where the bullet entered and on the right where it left. Raising both hands to slow the blood, he tried to say something, or at least mutter a curse, but his vision blacked-out again. Then he was falling…

Couldn't have been Eric…

-M-

Maybe now he'd stay down…but deep inside she knew he would be up and after them some time soon. That was probably why her conscience didn't fell as heavy as it did the first time she shot the man. And hey! She didn't lose her lunch either…

Klaus tugged at her shirt sleeve urgently and she handed him the gun. H nearly dropped it out of surprised, but caught it properly and ran back to Eric's car as Muriel made her way forward. Looking around quickly to make sure nobody saw her, Muriel knelt down beside his body and loosened the utility belt from his waist, opening a few of the compartments in search of keys to Eric's cuffs. But then curiosity set in…

Leaning forward slightly, she tilted her head to see his neck wounds properly. The bleeding…had stopped…and the skin was healing, almost seaming together with invisible thread.

Panicking, she stood and spun around, sprinting back toward Eric's car as fast as she could manage.

-E-

"She shot him again?" He muttered to himself. "I can't believe that woman…"

Then again, she _was_ pregnant. Major mood swings tended to make women do odd things, and Muriel was an extremist already on her own…

Open looking up into the rear-view mirror, he saw Muriel running in his direction, sliding to a halt on his side of the car and throwing the door open with a look of surprise and panic spread across her face. Whatever had her spooked…really had her _spooked_ and he was too sure he wanted to find out why.

"You look like you saw that living dead."

She glared. "Close enough! Have you _seen_ that guy heal himself? It's…it's as though dying is nothing more than a small setback to him! I thought it would take longer than this…he was down for so long on the ground back at the apartments…"

"Quite possibly, he could have been back on his feet after we left the apartments." He sighed. "That would explain how he tracked us down so fast…But perhaps that's how his body works. If he's killed once, whatever healing powers he possessed go on hold just in case he dies again sometime soon. He could be up in five minutes for all we know."

Muriel wasn't really listening to what he was saying, fumbling with the keys as she undid his cuffs, but she appeared to hear the last sentence. Whimpering in fear, she waved to someone across the parking lot and jumped over Eric into the driver's seat of the car. Then Klaus came, sprinting across the lot and slipping into the back seat.

"…Am I missing something here?"

Muriel smiled politely at Eric. "Hey…do you know how to hotwire a car?"

He paused to think about that…Yes, _he did_, but did he really think this was the best idea? He'd rather get to America as a prisoner and end his feud with his father once and for all than take his friends along for a never-ending chase.

Muriel wasn't the kind of girl who took no for an answer.

Kneeing the glove compartment hard enough, it sprang open and revealed a small pack of various working tools. _These_ were used for his "notorious" part-time job, but they came in handy for the little fixing tasks every once in a while.

"Move over a little. I need to see the steering wheel." He said as he grabbed the package and undid the seatbelt. "Just relax and…"

_BANG!_

The car shook violently and the indent on the roof curved inward just an inch or so short of Muriel's head.

"Damn…that guy just doesn't know when to stay down, eh, Mur?"

She nodded meekly…

-S-

He was _beyond_ annoyed. He was beyond _furious_! If that _woman_ shot him one more time, he would make sure she was in a wheel chair for the remainder of her pregnancy. He was kind enough to let her go at the airport, and he even suspected she would follow anyway. But killing him first?

That woman had no morals whatsoever.

Pulling his right fist from the dent he made on top of the car, Slade paused momentarily to listen to their conversation. Eric gave Muriel a few quick an easy instructions (for what, he didn't know) before the passenger's seat door slammed open and Eric himself stepped outside the car. The young man reached down toward his right shoe and—

Slade flipped off the car just in time, avoiding his second bullet of the night. Muriel had one gun, but…then where did Eric get this one…Unless, of course, she jacked it off one of the two hitmen at the airport while Eric held onto the original one Muriel shot him with earlier.

This could be easy…all he had to do was wait from him to run out of bullets.

"The woman has better shot than you." Slade mocked, moving around the car to see Eric. "And to think…you used to be a thief. Have you ever actually killed someone before?"

Eric paled at his words and his shoulders slouched visibly. Perhaps…he had.

Then the young man frowned. "What does it matter what I did in the past? And who the hell said I was aiming for_ you_?"

Huh?

There was shouting from behind him, followed by another bang and the sound of something colliding with the ground. Upon turning around, he came face to face with a disaster zone. Apparently Eric hit the large glowing letters above the diner, causing them to fall and alert anyone inside of what was going on in the parking lot.

Well, they should have heard the first gunshot, but maybe they didn't really care about that…

A couple of men and one of the woman servers had stepped outside to stand on the front porch and stare at the scene. Then someone noticed him and Eric…

"You're only going to make this harder for yourself." Slade muttered, turning to face Eric. "These men won't put up a good enough fight."

"No, they might not even fight you at all…but at least they can tell the police who they'll be chasing down…"

Hmmm…the police would prove to be a hindrance. If they were searching for him then they might block up the highways. That wouldn't be too hard to get past, but it _would _slow him down considerably if he was planning on taking a couple of hostages.

"Funny." He muttered.

Then the engine started up, the tail lights turning on. Whatever Muriel was told to do, it concerned the car and now she herself could get away.

He really did hate wasting his weapons on amateurs…

Reaching to his belt before Muriel could change gears and back up into them; Slade took a small silver sphere into his hand and threw it hard at the ground. Dark gray smoke erupted immediately and bellowed around the two men, moving past the car to consume it and any other nearby vehicles into the haze. Now he had cover.

Eric, blind and suffocating, didn't move anywhere and was hit by Slade in the side of the head. As the man fell unconscious, Slade caught him and dragged him to the side of the car.

"Be gracious I don't throw you in the trunk." He growled. Really…all this trouble for just one man…

He'd better find out why the young man was so important. If this was a trivial mission of little importance, heads were going to roll…

-A-

Okay…so I know he wasn't as nice as he should have been in this chapter, but you will see, by the end of the story, a major good deed—and you get to see the Titans! Just…not in Germany. And I'm sorry if my story is so boring…I found out that I'm in last place so far…Oh well, I like it. And I wish I could vote for whose I like…there's a good tie in my mind between **Shara Shima** and** DLsky**. Anyways—I have a test to get too! ARGH! SO MUCH WORK!...See you around…


	7. Chapter seven: On my way to America

Have a Heart

Alexnandru Van Gordon

I…really don't know what to say right now. I've been pressed for time like you wouldn't believe it, and I was really looking forward to wrapping up "Not Again" before Christmas…I should get it done, maybe even "Blast" but that depends on the workload that my school is slaving us with…If you want to blame anybody, point your finger at my social and math teachers. They're trying to cram as much knowledge as they most possibly can into our heads.

PS: Remember to send in your list of best to…least best stories (in your eyes) to DLsky so she can fix up the chart and figure out who the winners are so far. Thanks.

DISCLAIMER: Hah!...Ownership? There's a joke…

CHAPTER SEVEN: On my way to America…

"That little bi—"

"Mark! I'm on the phone!"

The brothers sat together on a bench outside the airport, Matthew with his ear attached to his cell phone. If they couldn't win the war, then no one would.

Matthew still couldn't believe he was taken down by Deathstroke. Talk about bad luck…

"Jason?"

Then was a grumbled on the other side of the line before a man answered gruffly. _"Don't you guys know not to call during the day? Do you want to get caught."_

"It's night here." Matthew muttered. "And besides, we lost the kid and his younger brother."

"_How? He weighs half as much as you and wouldn't hurt a fly. Just shoot him in the legs and drag him back here."_

"_Duh_! The competition got to him first."

"_Then why are you calling me?"_

"Because…" He grinned at Mark and his brother nodded. "We want to know where this Slade guy is taking him."

"_Take a lick'n and keep on tick'n?"_

"Not quite…I just want to give the Titans a heads-up on the situation…"

-C-

"That's new…"

Raven had to agree. "He'll be a first…"

It was a letter—or an e-mail really—sent by the police to the Titans, posted on the main screen, informing them that they had two major problems heading their way. One was a supposed mad scientist who went by the name of David Church, an escapee and not the nicest man to meet at the subway, and the second was none other than their archenemy…or Robin's really. The rest of them tried not to loose sleep wondering about the psychopath…

"I didn't realize he left…" Raven muttered. Slade had been awfully quiet for the last little while—and they knew it was bugging the hell out of their leader—but still…what on earth could he be up to now?

"It gets better." Cyborg continued, frowning. "He has a hostage. Looks like he's trading the man to this David Church guy…"

"What's in it for him?"

Cyborg jumped and Raven paused. They'd been the only ones in the room—of course, until Robin suddenly showed up. He stood no more than a foot behind them before he made his presence known.

Must have been the bat genes…

"Did they give us any possible trade-off locations?"

"No…" Cyborg returned to the keyboard and scrolled down the rest of the letter. "But we can monitor the airways and ports. It says his hostage was taken from Berlin earlier today…err…yesterday, according to the time zone in Germany."

"Then we'll do that. Until then, I'm going to find this David Church…"

Raven nodded. "I'll look up on any outside airports. If Slade's smart, then he's obviously not going to use the international airport of Jump City…"

Robin grinned, "You do that…" and spun around, heading toward the hallway. If Slade was trying to play behind his back, he was going to catch the man off-guard. Guaranteed…

-M-

She had no idea what just happened. There was smoke, she began to feel woozy, someone opened the driver's seat and grabbed her…then she woke up, sir blowing in her face.

Sitting up, and trying to move into a more comfortable position, Muriel found herself in the backseat next to a slumbering Klaus to her right; her window opened a crack to blow a cool breeze in her face. She almost forgot why she was there until she spotted Eric in the passenger seat up front, sitting straight with his head hanging forward.

Good grief…that meant…

Maybe her brain was dead today, she didn't know. She just suddenly had the urge to hit something and the first thing that came to mind was a swift kick to the seat in front of her. That, of course, was where the driver was sitting, and he didn't appreciate it much.

"I can understand that a suicidal act of heroism would look good on an application to heaven, but consider the lives your friends." Slade growled after he corrected his driving. He didn't swerve too badly when she startled him, but he was close to the middle of the street and in the dark of night…well, she really didn't want to die the same way her husband did…

"Impulse…" Muriel muttered; crossing her arms and staring at him from the review mirror built into the roof of the car. "And what just happened? The last time I checked, we almost got away."

He laughed—he actually _laughed_—at _her_. "You can try, but I can't guarantee success. You're determined, but even your reckless boyfriend lacks the skill to outrun me."

"_Boyfriend_?" She hissed. "Yeah right. And he's as reckless as a fly. He taught in a university for goodness sake…"

"Part time. He used to be an international thief." Slade paused, staring back at her through the rear-view mirror, eye narrowing. Somehow she could tell he was smiling. "I suppose he left that out of his introduction. And to think, because of a few simple lies he added you and your unborn child to the situation. Now what do you think of him?"

"Pretty much the same thing, but now I see you differently. You're a mercenary _and_ a really bad liar."

He laughed at that too. "Believe what you like. Just wait until you meet his father…"

Oh…that's right…his _father_…

Muriel wondered what he was like. Probably a right bastard if he assigned a mercenary to hunt down his own sons…

The vehicle suddenly slowed until it came to a halt. There was a short pause as Slade allowed the traffic to pass, bright head-lights blinding her momentarily, until he turned to the left. The car hit a dirt road and carried on at a slower pace for about five minutes until she saw the lights of…an old airfield? One of the air hangers had its lights on and there, in plain view, was an old man…

"You're really serious about turning them in…" She whispered to herself. But somehow he heard.

"I don't joke."

And he was being serious about that too.

The car came to a halt for the second time that night and parked beside the first runway, near the opened air hanger. Parked at the end of the runway was a jet…in the dark…

Something about _everything_ didn't sit well with her. She half expected some sort of zombie to jump out of nowhere.

"I trust you won't try anything _stupid_?" He asked, opening his door. There was a stir from Eric and Slade hesitated. "Repeat that order to him when he wakes, will you? Tell him I'm watching him…"

Muriel made a face but didn't reply. True to their suspicions, Eric woke shortly after Slade stepped up to the older man and began talking with him. Lifting his head and rubbing his forehead gingerly, he blinked rapidly and started looking around for something familiar.

"Now where the hell am I?"

"Don't do anything stupid…" Muriel repeated, sighing. "Supposedly, he's watching us."

Eric jumped, half expecting to be alone. Then he undid his seatbelt and twisted in his seat to face her. "Damn…he still has you guys…Oh well. It's for the best that you stay in the car."

"And what about you?"

He grinned. "Me too. He might not be watching us directly, but I wouldn't doubt the possibility of henchmen or teammates sitting around somewhere, keeping an eye on us…."

"What?" She smiled. "No fight?"

"I'm still seeing double…" He said, rubbing one eye. "He can hit pretty hard…"

No kidding. The guy gets shot and he stills stands back up. Utterly horrifying…

"So…" She licked her lips nervously. "What's your father like?"

He paled at her question, looking as though he just realized something very important.

"Do you still have your husband's wedding band?"

She didn't know why he was asking…but she nodded and pulled it out, still on its chain, from behind her overalls. Talking it off, she handed it to him, keeping the chain.

"Why do you ask?"

"If my father asks you, we're married." He answered, sounding quite nervous himself. "And that's _my_ kid you have with you."

"What? But why?"

He started at her solemnly. "I'm being very serious now. If he thinks that's my kid, then he won't hurt either of you…He'll just assume it's like me. Then he might ignore you…"

What was he talking about? Why? Was there something different about Eric that she still didn't know about? Was this what he wanted to tell her at the airport before they interrupted by that weird guy…

"Would you please explain this to me?" She asked in a quiet voice. "I really want to know what I got myself into…"

There was contemplation in his eyes as he stared at her silently. He began chewing on his lower lip…but eventually he said something.

"Promise me you won't judge me if…I'm a little different." He asked. "Promise that you'll hear me out before you cut in and that you'll never tell a soul what you're about to hear. Got that, Muriel?"

Was it that…serious? What was wrong with him…or was anything wrong with him at all? The word 'different' could imply a number of things, but she didn't judge people. Not a stranger and certainly not one of her few friends.

"Promise."

-A-

YES! Now I can finally work on something else than this stupid story…I've really got to learn how to manage my time. It's late and I want to sleep, but I assure you—this time—that I'll be starting on one of my other chapters soon. Yesterday I thought I lost my USB device and on that was all my stuff. I got it back from John but he broke it (Argh…). I fixed it but now so many of the files won't work…I hate this…I had so much work done…Oh well, my dad should be back this weekend and that means I'll have all of Saturday late-night to work (YAY!). See you guys around…

_Until Again,_

_Alexnandru Van Gordon_


	8. Chapter eight: Mr Church

Have a Heart

Alexnandru Van Gordon

Wow…I've been really slacking off—but anyone who takes Religion at school knows that you have to do two things 1) service hours and 2) a huge project on one of the World's religions. I picked Egyptian…really interesting—but that's not the point…

**Semi-important:** Hmmm…trust me when I say you _will_ see a genuinely_ good_ Slade—no matter how hard it is for him to be that way—but I have to go with a natural reaction. He tries to be good, it blows up in his face so he goes back to being bad, and then something comes along and changes his mind…don't worry, he'll still be the same mean, calm and collective, evil mastermind that I do so love writing about, but he takes out his frustration on another outlet, kind of like in "The End" (with Raven and Trigon), where he takes down Trigon, and just so happen to 'help' the Titans in the process…Just read. You'll see soon enough for yourselves…

DISCLAIMER: Refer to chapter one please.

CHAPTER EIGHT: Mr. Church

"_So_…where's the pick up?"

Robin almost laughed. Eyes scanning the information, he just shook his head and turned to his teammates. "The docks."

David Church must have picked the position, or at least one of his men. Slade wasn't the kind of guy to use the same place twice and if the dock was the trade-off point for the hostage…

"Who'd he take?" Beast Boy, hovering behind Robin, was trying to peek over their shoulders and the papers spread out on the counter. Finally he morphed into a squirrel and climber over the huddle.

"Here." Starfire offered, picking up a picture of the man. "He is a Collin of Peters…"

Raven sighed. "You mean '_Peter Collin'_."

"Um…yes."

Robin had to admit…there wasn't much left for them to prepare for. Tonight was the trade off and they hadn't many clues as to where to find either of the two men (David Church or Slade). The best thing to do until then was to play dumb and pretend that they knew nothing. That way D. Church wouldn't suspect his plans to be spoiled and would go on with everything arrogantly, like a real criminal.

"Sit tight." Robin sighed. "I just hope Slade hasn't tortured anyone…"

-M-

As strange as it might have seemed, everything Eric told her made perfect sense. Oh course, she probably would have rolled her eyes and laughed as though it were a joke if he had told her this before the whole abducting issue, but now she realized he was quite serious.

"Ouch…talk about a tough childhood." She finally admitted. "What does your father want you for now?"

Eric grinned. "You'll see…I don't want our humble host to hear about anything."

She followed his eyes and stared out the side window. Slade was finished talking to the elder man—who was making his way to the plane—and was heading back toward the car.

"Knowing him…he probably knows something about it already."

Eric laughed. "Don't jinx me." He leaned toward back seats and hit Klaus in the knee, waking the boy with a start. "Rise and shine, sleepy-head. Our plane is leaving."

"So…you're actually going to _let him_ take you back to your father?"

"Yep…" He finally noticed his seat belt and undid it. "I'd rather get rid of him once and for all, than continue running."

She paused for a moment. "…So...you're going to kill him?"

Eric looked incredulous. "What makes you think that? In all honesty, I never killed a person in my entire life. I might have shot someone once or twice…but never to kill them."

"_He_—" She nodded toward the dark figure heading their way. "—said you used to be a thief."

She could tell she hit the nail on the head.

"Please don't lie…" She added. "Not after everything you told me…"

"Sometimes…Sometimes I was, but it more so because of the security for Klaus and the fact that I couldn't get a job anywhere normal without someone popping up with a gun and a million dollars in their pocket. But I never stole from anyone in their own home…"

She smiled. "Then what did you steal?"

"Stuff from the museums."

Then the door swung opened.

-S-

"Don't try anything funny." He warned, grabbing the woman by the arm and helping her to stand. "Trust me when I saw you won't get very far."

"I believe it." She replied without a worry in the world.

She seemed to be a little…_cheery_. He was almost tempted to ask what Eric told her, but he'd get it out of the man on their way over to the states. That also reminded him of the matter concerning _why_ his father was after him.

They were going to have one hell of a long conversation.

Eric and his younger brother stepped outside the car without so much as a word. Eric was frowning. Klaus was more focused on the bushes alongside the road and the few glints he saw—or thought he saw—every then and again. It was a few of the robots Wintergreen brought along for the ride in case they ran into someone. There were more on the plane, Wintergreen assured him of that, but the older man also had something else to say.

The trade-off was at Jump City.

The trade-off was originally scheduled in New York, but one of Dr. Church's contacts got a hold of Wintergreen somehow and told him that it would be easier for them both if Slade brought his sons to Jump City instead. Like hell. If Slade had set up the entire plan on his own, then _maybe_ going to Jump wouldn't be so bad, but if was David's men who set everything up…

The Titans probably already knew. They had trouble when it came to battling major villains like Blood or himself, but when it came to petty mad scientists and mofia men; they probably thought it was a vacation.

Perhaps he was giving them too much credit. After all, they were just children. Then again, with a leader as obsessive as Robin, some things weren't as difficult for them as it would be for the average person.

To hell with the Titans. If they managed to find out, then oh well. More fun for him.

His three hostages piled onto the plane without question. It would seem that Eric finally realized he was going back to his father whether he wanted to or not, and Klaus was void about it all because he went wherever his brother went, regardless of the danger that await them both. As for the woman, Muriel…he didn't quite know.

The small jet was divided into three parts. The cockpit, the center with a side sliding door for sky-divers, and a far back room which could be used either as a storage area or—in this cause—a momentary prison. Without much thought, he pushed Eric down to sit near the sliding door and took Muriel roughly by he right arm, leading both her and Klaus to the far back. Three of his robots stayed in the center area to watch his original captive with one in front with Wintergreen to fly the plane, another single robot seated in the far back to watch his other _guests_.

Waiting until Muriel and Klaus were seated, Slade closed the back door partway to talk to them in private without Eric hearing him. He didn't want the man to see him act with any more mercy before they landed in Jump City. Otherwise, his upcoming questioning session wouldn't be as easy as it should be.

"This is your last chance to leave."

Muriel didn't believe she heard him right the first time, staring at him quizzically and then at Klaus. The young boy just shrug, unable to voice an opinion.

"I was only asked to take _him_ back." He explained, meaning Eric. "So as far as anyone besides myself and my partner know, you have no involvement in this situation whatsoever. If you were wise, you would take this chance and leave. As soon as this plane takes off, you will receive no further openings for escape. Is that understood?"

Both captives paused in contemplation—one mute in any case—before shunning his offer aside. The woman turned her face away, almost _blushing_ so far as he knew. And he knew it. Either she owed something great to the young man or she had feelings for him, but he knew then that she wasn't going to leave him. No matter what the cost.

That enraged him somewhat. She really didn't understand what she was getting herself into—but it was the boy that tipped the scale. One look at him and Slade locked eyes (or eye…err…whatever…) with a glare which reminded him too much of his own sons. Joseph…

Startled and a little furious, he reopened the door behind him and slammed it shut as soon as he left. Giving a quick gesture to one of his robots, the bot left to tell Wintergreen it was time to leave, and took a seat across from Eric. The young man was already strapped in, eyeing the two robots seated one either side of him until he realized Slade was staring directly at him.

"You look upset."

"How would you know?" Slade snapped. "Usually the mask hides all that."

"The eye is a window to the soul." Eric found a frown of his own and glared back just as hard. "So, why didn't you ditch them? I'm sure my father left no details in his plans concerning them."

"You can ask them yourself."

"_Bastard_. Muriel doesn't know what she's getting into."

"Do I honestly look like I care?" Somehow he managed to shake off whatever pity he felt for his captives. He was growing too soft anyway... "I kill for a living. You should know that." Then he smiled behind his mask. "Besides, your slate isn't exactly clean either. You might have never killed anyone, but you seem to think you're above the law as well."

Eric's eyes darkened. "Congratulations, you finally figured something out about me, but I bet you don't even know why my father asked you to grab me in the first place."

His smile faded. "Certainly not fatherly love. Otherwise he would have asked for your brother as well. But we have time to spare. Certainly enough for you to tell me every last detail…"

"Like hell I would." The young man spat.

Yes…he would.

The robot to Eric's left reached to its side and opened part of its chest. Reaching inside, it pulled out a syringe.

"This is what I do for a living." Slade drawled out calmly, not a real care in the world. He had had his fair share of stubborn prisoners and he was quite sure Eric would be no exception to the ones from which he squeezed information from. "And like I said before, we have time to spare…"

Eric stiffened, but maintained the heavy glare. He knew, as well as Slade, that when it came to chemical _assistance_, keeping a tight mouth was a hard thing to do. And if he was really smart, then he would also know needles weren't the only thing Slade had up his sleeve.

Slade found his smile again. "Feel free to scream at any time…"

-unknown-

The docks were dark and quiet, not quite at peace when you consider the constantly moving shadows or the occasional shout of one of the late-night workers startled by something on one of the further, but it was mostly deserted and not a soul would know what they were doing there if everything went according to plan. Mr. Church came to Jump City as soon as he possibly could, waiting anxiously for the arrival of his son.

Nine o' four p.m….just as scheduled.

"Jeremy thinks he saw one of those kids."

Mr. Church, who was staring quietly out the side window of his car, simply grinned. "You mean the Titans?"

Conrad sat beside him, flipping his cell-phone closed and staring out his own window. "It was that red-haired alien girl hovering near one of the buildings. We're sorry, Mr. Church. We thought—"

"I was wondering when they'd find out." He laughed. "It was inevitable, so don't worry about it. They'll come along and show just who exactly is in control of this small city—them, or Deathstroke the Terminator."

He was looking forward to seeing the man in action.

"Nine o' five." Conrad said aloud, reading off his writs watch. "The old man on the phone said they would be here at exactly that time."

"And they are." Church assured him, opening his door. "They're inside the pier warehouse."

"How did you—" Conrad ended up cutting his own sentence short. He learned, over the years, that Mr. Church was usually quite right about whatever he said….

He just didn't want to see the demon he made a deal with…

-S-

The flight over to America was quite interesting. He found out everything he wanted to know from Eric—even the small planned he hoped of playing against his own father—and he had suddenly come to one conclusion—

He wanted to know more. Not just what Eric knew, but what his father knew as well. And if anything the young man said to him was true, then hello Doomsday…

He came to the old warehouse early, all three hostages in tow. Wintergreen, who had other business to attend to, left shortly after for another engagement elsewhere in the city and Slade…well, he kept an eye open for Mr. Church. Curiosity plagued him as to what the man looked like. If he was as terrible as everyone made him out to be, he wondered what history than ma had behind his back and wanted to know more about his own research. If Eric was right about his father, then he might still be searching for a way to advance the human brain from youth.

He wondered if he still tested his 'ideas' on infants…

Somehow, even that notion disturbed him.

Sitting at the far back of the dark warehouse, he waited for one of his robot commandos to warn him of his visitors' arrival and, sure enough, roughly around nine o' five, one of the small side doors to the warehouse purposely creaked open and slammed shut behind a small group of five men.

Slade picked out Mr. Church instantly, even with the little amount of light supplied for anyone at all to see.

He was a tall man, well-built and possibly and ex-soldier by the judge of his figure. His hair was short and black, a band of white crawling up the back of his neck to show off his age, and his eyes were the same piercing blue that both his sons possessed. His skin was rough, Slade could make out the few lines by his eyes, but that did nothing to show he was weak. If anything at all, it gave the man a weather-worn and powerful air. But even then…he must have had Eric when he was a little older than the usual age that couple wanted children.

Mr. Church was a man with experience and Slade found himself a little angry at him. He couldn't place his finger it, but, nonetheless, something had him feeling disturbed and he was sure to get to the bottom of it before the night was through.

"You're late."

The men didn't see Slade at first, but as one of Slade's robots turned on a main light, they squinted and noticed him standing at the far end of the warehouse, hands placed neatly behind his back as they usually were.

"By half a minute." Mr. Church replied, not shaken in the least bit like his men at the sight of the famed mercenary.

"You're still late."

Mr. Church shook off the question. "Where is he?"

Slade didn't move. On Q, his other robots took the three captives from the corner shadows and into the light, Eric with his hands bound tightly behind his back. Muriel still had that stubborn and determined look to her face, Klaus appeared quite worried and Eric, still somewhat dazed by the whole "questioning" process on the plane-ride there, was pale and a little ticked off.

Slade enjoyed seeing the slightly startled reaction of Mr. Church at the sight of the other two hostages. His eyes shifted from Klaus to Muriel and back again.

"…This was somewhat unexpected." The older man wondered aloud. "I didn't ask for either of the other two, but their being here could prove useful. You expect pay for them too?"

"No."

Church's men glanced curiously between each other.

"Nevertheless, you brought them here in record time." He added. "There must something else I can do to pay you besides this…"

Two of the men stepped forward closer into the light and showed a briefcase before turning them sideways and opening them to show the money inside. Closing them once more, one of Slade's robots stepped up to take them.

Slade reached toward his belt, pulling out his bo-staff and extending it slowly in one hand. Church's men saw this as a threat and pulled out their guns but Mr. Church himself remained calm.

"You'll have to excuse me for a moment." Slade sighed. "But this conversation is no longer private."

"No rush." Church replied, taking out his own hidden gun from within a secret pocket of his long black coat.

Then the Titans attacked.

Three of them came in through one of the garage doors, nearly destroying it completely as they barged in. The small green changeling dropped down from above, first as a squirrel before morphing, mid-air, into a tiger and dashing toward the robots holding the hostages. Robin, on the other hand, came at Slade from behind.

"Attacking a man with his back to you?" Slade inquired, spinning around and deflecting Robin's attack with his own bo-staff. Both paused, pushing against one another with their poles. "I never knew that was part of the code of chastity but, then again, you always were an exception. Although, you seemed to have changed while I was gone…."

Robin had no mouthy answer. He muttered some sort of protest to what Slade had just said before pushing away and rounding up for another strike. Slade deflected the next one as well and, in the process, slid the boy a good couple of feet away for more room to fight.

"Impatient tonight, aren't we?" He laughed. "But you need to understand that not every hour of my life is devoted to ruining your team. I promise you'll have my full attention later…"

He could tell he was getting on the boy's nerves, speaking as though he were talking to a mere child, and it was a nice change from trying to have a verbal fight with either one of his annoying captives (minus the mute). It was so much easier to enrage him.

"I came here to fight." Robin growled, winding up for yet another attack. "How about you?"

Interesting question…

-A-

We're nearing the end…but it doesn't happen here. And yes—if you guessed it—there _is_ a secret plan going on behind-the-scenes, and Slade heads it all. Just wait and see…The world's worst enemy is about to become a one-night-only hero…


	9. Chapter nine: Part A

Have a Heart

Alexnandru Van Gordon

It's really quite funny how a person's brain flies out the window after you've worked on automatic for so long. I'm sorry for the long delay—I especially have to apologize to **Dlsky** for putting up with the wait, and I have to thank her for not kicking my sorry self off the competition. I know I have a lot of work to do but my teachers loaded us up with projects on the long vacation and now they're giving us new packages that are due next week before Mid-terms (yeah…I know…everybody hates school). I have to update sooner or later on my other stories but I don't want to get kicked out of the challenge…Hit me if it makes you feel better. I really want to get Not Again out of my head before it starts embedding itself within my nightmares…

DISCLAIMER: (laughing hysterically)…

CHAPTER NINE: Part A…

He had to laugh.

There was no helping it. Don't get him wrong—the Boy Wonder was an admirable fighter and the quite the nifty little detective—but tonight was not one of his nights. He was fighting desperately, almost as though he was 'afraid' to let Slade slip away again.

Just from that bit of information, Slade could tell one thing—Robin and the Teen Titans came across the trade-off with Mr. Church by fluke. They had no idea where anyone would hide when the dust settled or what plans connected with the kidnapping of Eric Church and that was why they were so eager to stop everyone tonight.

Too bad for the heroes.

Watching as Robin moved to swing his staff again, Slade brought up his own weapon in an upward circle, catching the boy in the chest and sending him through the air where he landed in a ruckus behind a large pile of crates. One of them broke beneath his weight and Robin's staff, which he had lost grip of in flight, whistled through the air until it collided with the far wall.

Hopefully, if he were smart, Robin would stay down for the count. Slade couldn't afford for the boy to ruin yet another one of his 'more-important' plans.

He spoke too soon.

Just as he turned away, dusting off his hands, something small, round and metal clinked off the ground as it bounced in his general direction. He spun around just in time to see a tiny red dot pick up speed as it beeped wildly at him.

Looked like Robin was into making new toys.

Startled into action, Slade kicked it.

The frenzied time-ball whizzed through the air toward the battle ranging on between the other Titans and Church's men. It landed near the Cyborg and Starfire, startling the half-robotic man to turn and run, but ensnaring the alien-girls attention until it exploded.

"EEP!" She screamed, but, fortunately for her, she soared free of the explosion before it could cause her harm.

Muttering to himself about carrying sedatives for now on, Slade turned sharply on his heel and headed back toward the Boy Wonder as he climbed his way over the crates.

-E-

"What are you doing here?"

The dark girl levitating beside him, hands and eyes glowing, threw a large black spike in the general direction of his father before turning to face him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

This was getting to be frustrating. First he had to endure hell on the long plane-ride to America with only Lord Chuckles for company, and now, when things were starting to look up for him, the Titans had to barge in and put a dent in the plan.

"Never mind." He mumbled. "Thank you for the speedy rescue attempt."

The green changeling of the team, a jokester which kept changing into a monkey to evade the bullets and jump the armed men, came soaring through the air and landed in Eric's arms before morphing back into his humanoid self. "_Attempt_? What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Nothing…"

"Nothing?" The boy scratched his head. "You don't look too happy."

Eric sighed." Maybe it's because I'm wondering why you're protecting me when my wife over there is struggling with some strange man…"

True to his word—aside from the 'wife' part—Muriel was struggling with one of his father's men, desperate enough to start kicking the man in the shins when biting him didn't work. That's when he pulled out the gun…

Eric drew his own first.

The man yelled and clutched his hand, dropping the gun and successfully losing his grip on Muriel as she dashed toward Eric. Raven, who had her back to Eric, flinched when the gun went off and Beast Boy, who was still standing near him, morphed into something small and disappeared quickly into the dark rafters. Now afraid that one of them would get shot, Eric dragged Muriel with him out of the open and behind one of the large wooden crates stored in the old warehouse.

"Where's Klaus?"

Muriel shivered, rubbed her arms nervously. "They dragged him outside." She answered meekly, pointing across the warehouse at the door Church and his men used to enter the building. "I think they knocked him out."

"Damn…" He cursed under his breath. "Muriel, hide somewhere in here—stay close to the Titans and let them take you somewhere safe."

Her face paled and she reached out for him just as he moved to stand. "What about you?"

"Relax. I have this under control."

She looked incredulous. "How so?"

A bullet ricocheted off the floor near Eric's foot, startling him into ducking behind the crate again. "Just…just believe in me." He gave her a quick hug. "Okay? And don't do anything brash or stupid?"

"Like what?" She sniffled.

"Remember your kid."

He slipped away before she could comment again and ran toward the far door, colliding with it and pushing himself outside before anyone had the chance to shoot him in the legs.

The cold evening air assaulted his lungs as he took a deep breath and spun around in search of Klaus. He was in a large alley between two of the dock warehouses, one way leading to the waters and the other leading down to the road. He hesitated to think that his father would take a boat and his thought was confirmed when he saw the small white cold of gas rising from the back of a vehicle visible around the building.

Gun ready, he sighed to himself and started down toward the road.

"Should have picked curtain number two."

He barely had time to turn before the gun went out. Tired, shocked, and still a little dizzy from his plane-ride to America, the pain in his left calf and shin barely registered properly in his mind for the first few seconds. Now limp, he could only turn half way and ended up leaning against the side of the warehouse for support when he caught sight of his father and two of his men.

"Shoot him in the other leg." His father ordered and the two men jogged forward. "Then lock him up in the car. We leave as soon as—"

The same door Eric used now banged open, two more of the men and Muriel stumbling out into the alleyway. Smoke rushed out from inside the building, thick and black like tar.

One of the crates must have caught on fire.

Muriel, dizzy and tired from her ordeal, different offer much of a fight as one of the men grabbed her from behind. She yelped in pain when he pulled her arm up high behind her back and slid his other hand around her throat.

Mr. Church glanced at her sadly. "Try to be a little gentle, Thomas. She isn't much of a threat to your health."

Another gun went off.

Eric cried out in pain and slumped to the ground, sitting up against the brick. Blood now poured from the new wound on his right shin and Muriel stared at it in utter dismay and horror.

"Take her by the water." Mr. Church sighed, eyes cast to the ground. "Kill her and throw her in."

-M-

She didn't mean to get caught a second time. Indeed, she did listen to Eric and tried to stay hidden, but from where she crouched in safety she saw the leader of the Titans, bruised and battered, trying to climb over the mountain of crates just as one of the gunners set fire to them. In the corner of her eye she noticed the large fire-extinguisher nailed to a pillar in the warehouse and made a break for it—just as one of the other men rounded the stack of crates and ran right into her. Then he grabbed her hair in one hand and her arm in the other before dragging her outside.

They shot Eric—

—_again_ by the look of both his legs. He was bleeding mildly on the ground where he sat before two men leaned down on either side of him and held his arms over their shoulders.

What Mr. Church said barely registered in her head.

"Take her by the water, kill her and throw her in."

Now she literally dead…

"No!" It was Eric again, horrified at the sight of them dragging her away.

His father sighed wearily, obviously not too keen on killing her either. "Why not? Why was she with you in the first place?"

"Your stupidity is incredible. Why _else_ would she be with me?"

Perhaps the thought dawned on the older man before. Chances were, he dismissed the idea entirely, but now the possibility was back from the grave.

The two men dragging Muriel off halted for a moment and turned to Mr. Church for new orders. He gazed for a long time at her stomach and then at her face.

"What relation do you have with him?"

Now she knew why Eric made a plan with her. She was somewhat glad now he took her late husband's wedding ring.

"I'm married to him."

Again he hesitated, almost expecting it to be a lie. But when he turned to stare at Eric and his eye caught the ring on his left hand…

"In all honesty, Eric, I never thought you'd create such a liability. I guess I was wrong…" Mr. Church shook his head, but this time he appeared somewhat relieved. "Thomas, take her to the car. And be careful…"

But good grief…now she was out of the frying pan and in the oven. What was to happen to her if Mr. Church found out they weren't married after all? What were they going to do with her anyway—and what about Eric? They shot him in both legs…what kind of father let that happen to his son?

"Smile." 'Thomas' muttered in her ear as he pushed her forward. "You're damn lucky you've got _his_ kid."

The idiot didn't know the half of it…

-MC-

As eager as he was to leave, some intuitive thought told him to stay behind for a little longer. That, he could do…

Standing patiently with his hands behind his back, he watched his men drag Eric around the corner to the car. All in all, he won more than he hoped to in that one night. Not only did he have his son—and _yes_, it did grieve him to have his own son shot, least he tried to escape—but he had his younger son back as well and a grandchild…He never thought he, or either of his sons, would live long enough for a grandchild to be born. Not only that—but he _honestly_ never expected Eric to settle down for anything like that. When did he have the time to find a woman to marry who understood the predicament he was in? Eric had been on the run ever since the first time he escaped.

Thank God he stopped Thomas…

"_Your men burned my payment."_

He regarded the mercenary respectively as Slade stepped out into the cold. Smoke rose out behind him, not appearing to bother him in the least bit.

"I trust you bugged one of my men."

"I did."

Mr. Church nodded. "Follow us when you may. I'll pay you in full when we meet again."

"Expect me soon."

Good—the sooner the better. Then he wouldn't have to deal with the man anymore…

But something seemed to be amiss…

-A-

Gotta go—hope it didn't sound rushed. Victor wrote another chapter for his story and is bugging me to use the computer…

_Signing out,_

_Alexnandru Van Gordon_


	10. Chapter ten: To rule or destroy

Have a Heart

Alexnandru Van Gordon

Blah…Chemistry mid-term today. I'm sick of studying, but once this is done I still have biology, physics, math, english, latin, and social to worry about, so hey…it all comes back at me. I felt like torturing someone, so I picked Eric (that, and I have to update for the competition soon).

Good luck to anyone else with mid-terms. For those of you who don't….I envy you…OH YEAH! **INSANEIAC THE MANIAC** LIVES! Do you hear me? HE LIVES! Isn't this wonderful? He just had a few…technical difficulties (John: Yeah—for a year) –shut up John!—but now he's back! Yay! That inspires me to update more…

DISCLAIMER: (Still laughing hysterically).

CHAPTER TEN: To rule or destroy…that is the question

"He knows."

"I know he knows—but _we_ don't know."

"…not yet, anyway."

Cyborg shook the man again, both fists twisted in the stiff material of the man's suit jacket. Lifting him off him feet, he drew him close, face-to-face.

"There was a woman, a kid, and a young man. Why were you after them and where did your buddies take them?"

Raven, who resolved to levitate peacefully beside the two, rolled her eyes and tried to concentrate again. "I could always enter his mind…"

The man blanched at the thought.

"No, no…" Cyborg shook him again. "I'm making progress."

"Dude…he's almost as green as me." Beast Boy pointed out. "Quit shaking him before he pukes on you."

Cyborg grumbled something and shook him again.

Raven didn't say anything. Starting with her chant, she secretly pried into the man's weak mind...

-E-

Home sweet home…or not. Actually, anything but. Aside from nearly bleeding to death on the car-ride 'home', Klaus and Muriel were shoved into the backseat beside him, both of which were put to sleep by his father's sedatives.

Well…at least he wasn't alone—although his entire plan was going to be a lot harder now that they decided to tag along. But he really couldn't blame them. It was his fault entirely that they were stuck in this predicament.

He should have stayed in Germany to make sure they took the plane to Brazil. Now…he had no idea what was going to happen to them, especially Muriel and her unborn child. What would his father do if he found out her child didn't really belong to Eric?

Too much to think about…too little time…

They drove to a twenty-storey high building within the city limits and pulled into the underground parking lot. There were only a few other vehicles down there, employees of Church and the many scientists he hired for his _cause_. Other than that, the place was isolated. There was an elevator near the far end, and in front of it stood a man and a woman with a wheel-chair, but no one else.

"I trust the cat's got a good grip on your tongue?"

Eric didn't say anything. Besides a slight nod to his father, he tried to ignore the man completely. It wasn't that hard to do either, considering the agonizing pain in his legs…

They stopped near the elevator and opened the doors. Muriel and Klaus were lifted out before Eric slid out toward the end. The wheel-chair was for him and when the woman moved to help him in, he brushed her aside entirely. But, for extra precaution, a pair of cuffs held his hands together as one of the men looped the wheel-chair tight around his waist to keep him from going anywhere—what a laugh.

"Take him to the labs and set him up immediately." His father ordered, gesturing to the men as they loaded captives up onto the elevator. "I'll be with you shortly."

And with that, his father disappeared. Eric hadn't the slightest idea where his father was going, but he hoped it all worked out.

Slade had better be a man of his word.

-MC-

He knew the mercenary was following them. It was something to be expected of someone with Slade's reputation, but it still made him uneasy. The man was too…unpredictable. One second he'd be fighting for one cause, and the next—in less than the blink of an eye—he'd be fighting for another. It was hard to deal with people like that.

It was like trying to run on quick-sand.

So, he took the stairway up to the labs instead. If he was going to confront the man, then it would be alone because—he had no doubt—Eric was certain to have swayed the man's thoughts at one point of time or another during his capture. Eric was just like that. He was smart enough to make it look like he was losing…

So, what was David Church really scared of? Slade's unpredictable mind or his _son's_ unpredictable mind?

After ten flights of stairs, he reached the top viewing room. It was a long dark room that circled the center lab—which took up three stories on its own—that was fitted with no windows aside from the glass walls facing inward. From here he could see everything.

"_What exactly is your boy working on?"_

Mr. Church shoved his hands into his pockets and walked up to the glass walls. Far off to his left, hidden in the shadows, the mercenary leaned against the solid wall casually with his arms crossed and his eyes pinned on the lab before him.

"What else? Weaponry."

"_For whom?"_

"For myself and a few buyers. Why?"

The man shrugged indifferently. _"It appears everyone wants to rule the world these days. It makes me feel…less original."_

Church smiled inwardly. "Don't feel bad. We don't want to rule the world."

Silence.

"We want to destroy it."

"_You're son mentioned something along the lines of that."_

"Are you a family man?"

"_Why would you ask that?"_

He himself shrugged, acting as nonchalant as the other man. "You refer to him as my son, as though that really means something to you. Everyone else sees him as more of my…creation."

"_You're still a father, nonetheless. And perhaps you think he doesn't just seem like a 'creation' to you."_

He didn't want to talk about that.

"Are you a business man?"

"_I am."_

"Then let's do business. Follow me." Turning sharply to his right, he started along the long circle toward his office. Finding the hidden door on the far side of the building, he opened it and stepped inside, letting it fall closed behind him. Slade slid inside before he had to touch it and was already by the far window looking out down upon the city before Mr. Church could reach for his desk phone. Dialing up one of his men, he ordered them to grab the money for Slade's job.

"Your pay will be here shortly." Church turned toward the door. "Feel free to _leave_."

"_I don't want your money…"_

He knew something like this was going to happen. It was inevitable.

"Then what do you—"

Naturally, the only thing that could interrupt was the sound of an explosion—from within the lab. Opening back office door, he ran back into the viewing room and stared down at the battle before him. Much to his surprise, he found Slade standing casually beside him.

Down below, Slade's robots had broken in, and—close behind him—so had the Titans.

"_Right on schedule."_

Whether he was referring to his commandos or the Titans, Church didn't care. In the blink of an eye, his had swept the inner blade from his sleeve into his right hand and stabbed it in the general direction of Slade's neck.

Just as fast, Slade had his arm up to block the assault. They held the position for a moment, one pressing hard against the other.

"_I can't take over the world if you destroy, Mr. Church. And when push comes to shove…I always win."_

"Or so you think…"

-A-

I've got to go now. Chemistry starts right after lunch and I have to go eat and re-read anything I'm a little dim on. Have a wonderful day though—I hope I can get back to my other stories soon.

_Until Again,_

_Alexnandru Van Gordon_


End file.
